Rabbit Scribbler Poem by Sidi Mahtrow

Sitting at the table, quite proper,
Wearing his baseball cap as a topper,
The Rabbit Scribbler began his journal
Of mundane events and all.

Yesterday it seems
Had to put on the 4 spf sunscreen
The medical profession had decreed
That those white such as he,
Should have protection from the rays
To prevent cancer in his later days.

That was before he had ventured out
Seeking sustenance round about,
And before he had been snared
By the barbwire fence just there.
There in his coat so sleek
A rend was seen to clearly peak,
Torn when he broke away,
That just wasn't going to be his day.

Well, through the fence he had finally passed
Into the farmer's carrot patch
Looking for one long and plump and tasty too,
Nothing but the best would surely do.
So while he had been selecting,
What should happen but the dogs come sneaking,
Almost caught him in the end,
His own, not the stories, to suspend.

Chased around and round until it was clear
That they expected to extinguish his life so dear,
What to do was the question asked,
Lest his time on earth was past.

No hollow trees were found,
But there waiting, was a hole in the ground.
Entered without delay,
These dogs had no intent to play.
Moving deep underneath the garden
Into another one's, secret haven.
Came upon a gopher turtle, face-to-face
Who had made this hiding place.

Not to worry he was told,
Others are here, both meek and bold.
A snake so long and thin,
Wonder when he did come in?
Then a skunk was there to share this place,
Best to look him in the face
(not the other end
from which the scent did send.)

But while there in the turtles lair,
It was most foul, that bit of air,
So the skunk decided it was time to go
And emerged just when the dogs were digging so.
Gave them a good spray of his perfume
Most unpleasant, we presume.
This sent the dogs running round,
Rubbing their noses on the ground.
Their game was over as it had begun
As they decided to pursue some other one.

So at least the Scribbler was free
To go about his business happily.
Crawled out of that hole in the earth
And hopped away for all he's worth.
Returned to his haven just as the sun was drooping
Over the horizon the moon was peaking,
Recorded the events of the day
So that the artist with her pen could come and play.

His day was ended, but her's just started
To cartoon the events he's reported.
How it will turn out heaven knows
But for sure, the scribbler shows
That into trouble you can get
When venturing out in the dewy wet,
Best to stay home in bed
And let others do the work instead.