EASTER EGG HUNTS
Just for fun, we asked our scribes to come up with some poems that capture the range of emotions children experience in their quest for those spectacularly painted spherical ellipsoids we love to eat for breakfast.
To say the least, we were quite surprised at the depth of emotion these verses brought up to the surface.
Whether you are still a kid getting ready for the big hunt, or you are a grown-up nostalgic for your childhood, we think you will really enjoy this very special holiday collection.
A Rite of Passage
My friends and I,
Back in July
Looked forward to the day,
When colored eggs
All blue and red
Would be strewn across the way.
We’d have a great big Easter egg hunt
The garden would be searched,
Through trees we’d wend
And around the bend
Until our clothes were smirched.
Yes, we could not wait for Easter
Of this we all agreed
But until that time, oh so sublime
We'd be patient yes indeed.
Glorious Colors
Red and green, blue can be seen
Even pink, black and magenta,
The glorious colors, a rite of spring
To signify the end of winter.
We love the race, to fill the basket
Right up to the very top.
Why can’t we always play such games?
Why do we have to stop?
We spend all day boiling eggs with mom,
Then color them in celebration.
And scatter them across the lawn
Like kids in every nation.
The Plan
We both rise early, sis and I
To plot out our grand approach
I have a notion
Oh sister dear
And so the plan I broach.
We’ll each take sections of the yard
Our arms all full of maps
We’ll look for those bright colored shells
We’ll cover all the gaps
Our search will take us far and wide
Until we find our fill
Of those darling little painted eggs
We’ll eat them yes we will!
Bleating
Johnny, Jimmy, Phil and Jane
Our team is at the ready,
Today’s the day we search for eggs
Our hands and minds are steady.
I look beneath a mulberry bush
But find no shells of green
Jane searches aside a streaming brook
They’re nowhere to be seen.
Then Phil hears something in the barn,
It sounds just like sheep bleating
Johnny quickly rushes in,
The sheep are in a meeting.
They’re feasting on our colored eggs,
Of that there’s no denying,
Our bounty deep inside their bellies
We all just break out crying.
Instead of fretting, or acting blue
Johnny says don’t worry,
The sheep are happy, and we’ll be fine
If we get to church in a hurry!
Joy and Pride
More than hunting big old eggs
I prefer life behind the scenes
Crafting, painting my designs
In oranges and greens.
This year I’ll go with antique brass,
That’ll make them weep
Or perhaps a nice shade of Pacific blue
Oh just watch them leap.
I’m the best egg artist in the town
Renown both far and wide
But in the end, when children smile
That’s my joy and pride