an admonition to peter rabbit, in pseudo sonnet form
CAVEAT HARE
STRAYST not from the shadow of thy mother,
Rabbit, for her eyes are true,
Her mind is sharp, and her heart is ripe,
As the berries in her stew.
And travel not down the path of thy father,
Rabbit, which twists in a dark place,
Whence neither The Twelve Peers of France
Nor The Nine Worthies could restore his GRACE.
For if thou disregardest these simple words,
Rabbit, and you slip beneath garden gate,
The Giants Mcgregor will pluck you up
And RABBIT PIE will be your fate!
And all the tears of Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton Tail
can scarcely quench the flames of HELL
STRAYST not from the shadow of thy mother,
Rabbit, for her eyes are true,
Her mind is sharp, and her heart is ripe,
As the berries in her stew.
And travel not down the path of thy father,
Rabbit, which twists in a dark place,
Whence neither The Twelve Peers of France
Nor The Nine Worthies could restore his GRACE.
For if thou disregardest these simple words,
Rabbit, and you slip beneath garden gate,
The Giants Mcgregor will pluck you up
And RABBIT PIE will be your fate!
And all the tears of Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton Tail
can scarcely quench the flames of HELL