Sharply cold, his foot pads on the grass,
He scurries frantically to beat the crowd,
They, the better vantage point from which
to spy and seize the trinkets locked inside.
But he with savvy nose and limber bones,
Discovers those that hide from humankind,
He cracks upon the ovate center ridge,
To open up the yummy treats he finds.
His suffers though, because he dallies twice,
While boys just plop their eggs in baskets deep,
This his only chance to gobble up his treats,
Lest mistress take away what he can’t keep.
Like Davy Jones on choppy waters, with
a stolen cache to save, into each shell
he sinks his teeth, to crack the rainbow pieces,
Swizzle-sticks and smarties serve him well.
I sit in rocking chair and sway,
the aches away, just capturing the scene,
I care not ’bout the mess they’ll leave behind,
to dream of colored eggs on sea of green.
And he, our loyal “Bandit”, will be spent
from chasing boys and eggs and bunny beans,
They’ve worn him out, with frolic and cavort,
He’ll sleep, perchance to dream a doggie dream.