Lettuce Lament -- A Guest Poem Post

I am very pleased today to bring you the following poem written by my husband Michael Mayrl.

LETTUCE LAMENT

Oh!  Let us lament for the lettuce. 

Let us grieve with the lettuce lament. 

Said the farmer to his youngest daughter,

"I wonder just where they all went?

For my prize heads of crisp, juicy lettuce,

Are reduced to stumps old and bent.

For buttercrunch lettuce is bestest.

It is practically a heaven sent."

His daughter, she knew not the answer.

She did not know what it meant.

The cat was the only one watching,

As the moon its radiance lent.

The night was a fair one in summer

With the lilies brightly in bloom.

A zephyr from south was breathing

The roses sweet scented perfume,

And lightning bugs blinked in the starlight

Lending their soft, gentle flame.

A mocking bird unleashed his poet

To the crickets' and tree frogs' refrain.

A whippoorwill commenced to stirring,

Calling over and over again.

Now this is what befell the lettuce

On the night of the dreadful event.

Yes this is what befell the lettuce

On a hare's misguided intent.

In her basket the pussy was dozing

On the porch at the back of the house.

A moth on her ear; wake up night is here!

Awake from your dreams of a mouse.

A family of bunnies was hungry.

For their supper they wanted some food. 

But when mother hare prepared sweet clover

They said that they weren't in the mood.

"Now what shall we dine on for supper?

I think we'll be needing a treat."

So father hare set off quite promptly

Bounced along on his big bunny feet.

His plan was forming just so,

And his mumbling were heard to repeat, 

"For lettuce, sweet lettuce, I'll go!

My kiddies need succulent lettuce.

They will not be answered with 'No!'"

He hopped out the door of the burrow

Through a maze of wild brambles and vines

Then along the banks of the wide river

That followed meandering lines.

At the elm tree he cut out cross country

Up the side of the slippery hill. 

Then he crept to the edge of the garden

Where he listened quite terribly still.

He was bound and determined for lettuce

On this were his purposes bent.

He was getting closer to lettuce

Near a garden most elegant.

He heard not a hound or a human

And of this he was really quite glad

For he'd have the choicest green lettuce

That the Mrs. And he'd ever had. 

Through the flower bed he gently tiptoed.

'Tween violets and Williams, sweet.

He peeked out from under the rhubarb,

And tiptoed on soft bunny feet.

Then he entered the vegetable section

His personal favorite spot

And he began to make his selection

Always hoping he wouldn't get caught.

With his mind fixated on lettuce

Could he be more impertinent?

With a big hill and a big lettuce

Disaster was most imminent.

As he hopped down the row his eyes started to grow

For each head looked more big than the last. 

At the end of the line was a lettuce so fine

On which bunnies could make their repast. 

He tugged on the head but fell down instead

For the root, it barely did budge. 

Then he gnawed at the stalk until it broke off

And with his tail he did give it a nudge.

He watched it roll down the hill

Here things turned really quite ill.

The big head it continued to roll.

It gathered up slime and did double time

And it rolled and it rolled and it rolled. 

With no one at the helm it bounced off the elm

Going faster than good lettuce aught ter. 

With a sickening splash the lettuce did crash

In laughing wild white open water. 

"Oh carrots!" Exclaimed the sad bunny.

"My lettuce.  It got clean away!"

"Whatever shall I tell the children?"

"They won't like to be dining on hay." 

He had already stolen a lettuce.

Of one more he wouldn't repent. 

Not thinking of previous lettuce

Of where the last head had went. 

So back to the farmer's garden

Back he did craftily hop

To nab the next biggest lettuce

But again the darned lettuce won't stop. 

All night the silly old bunny

Rolled lettuces down the big hill

But his family didn't think it was funny

When by morning they hadn't dined – still!

So if you only have clover for supper

But are craving sweet lettuce instead

And a cabbage head moon is high in the sky

'Cause the sun has long gone to bed

Remember the plight of our bunny

With your clover be quite contented

We all know going hungry isn't funny

So let missed meals not be lamented.

Oh! Let us lament for the lettuce

Let us grieve with the lettuce lament.