DEAR E.B.

Dear E. B.,
greetings oh brother bunny,
who makes Easter so sunny
with those chocolate eggs and jelly beans.

No I don’t wish to ruin the season,
but back at the hutch factory
where we slave away
to make all those tasty treats,
we’ve got a few minor problems.

Now I confess when you suggested
we needed a holiday in Spring,
it sounded like a great idea,
especially after you took out that patent on egg coloring kits,
then having that secret meeting at the North Pole,
did give the concept a special enchanted flair.

Only you’ve been off passing baskets
and having such a great time getting famous and all,
while I’ve had to deal with those darn strikes by the elves
that are moonlighting from Christmas,
they want us to make the day more jolly,
plus add in some fruitcake.

You know things have never been the same
since that Willie Wonka flick
those darn Oompa Loompas more likeable
than our cute and fuzzy acts.

I’m telling you we need some help,
a few miracles to restore our popularity,
something that makes our plastic grass magical,
perhaps asking Mother Earth for subsidy,
because you we got turned down
for the government grant,
which would have given us bucks
to sink into that slim-fast stock
as a survival precaution.