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I bought a pair of rabbits
‘Cause I thought it would be fun.
It was in about a month,
I discovered what I’d done.
Well it made my father mad
And it caused my mom to cry.
Seems the rabbits that I bought
Sure knew how to multiply.
If they are so good at math,
Which it looks to be a fact,
Why is it so impossible
To teach them to subtract?
Brussels the Bunny is another vegetable story. Hey, it worked for cauliflower! My second son, Jonathan, who is now a Family Practice physician, liked Brussels sprouts so much that he always vowed to eat one for each year old that he was. His sister and brothers teased him and asked him what he would do when he reached forty-five; he claimed that he would eat forty-five of them. I think that it was a statement long ago forgotten. But for several years he always insisted on one for each year of his age.
Brussels the Bunny

Brussels was a baby rabbit,
Just a tiny little bunny.
Brussels always wondered why
He had to have a name so funny.
When you read this bunny story,
I am going to tell you why.
And you’ll know it is the truth
Because I wouldn’t tell a lie.
Brussels lived next to a garden,
Out behind the city dump,
In a cozy little tunnel
Beneath an old dead oak tree stump.
Brussels really liked the garden,
Which was the pride of Farmer Brown.
He raised cabbages and turnips
That he would take and sell in town.
Little Brussels liked the turnips
But the cabbages were best.
He liked to walk along the rows
And give each one a bunny test.
Now Farmer Brown was furious
And he was very mad as well.
Cabbages with bunny tooth marks
Were never easy ones to sell.
So he went out to the tree stump
And he gave it quite a kick.
He tried to cave the tunnel in
And beat it with his walking stick.
It gave the rabbits quite a scare
When dirt and roots fell on their table.
It caused their lights to all go out
And even cut their TV cable.
Father Rabbit then told Brussels,
As he tried to fix their door,
Until he could eat one whole,
He’d nibble cabbages no more.
He’d surely miss his cabbages
And that’s the bunny truth
And then, as if to make things worse,
Brussels lost a baby tooth.
That night he placed the little tooth
Beneath his tiny bunny pillow
And waited for his first tooth fairy
Whose name he had been told is Willow.
Now Willow placed a dollar bill
On top of Brussels little bed
But Brussels asked the tiny fairy
If he could have a wish instead?
Of course you know the bunny wish
That little Brussels made that night.
He wished that he could eat a cabbage
In one single bunny bite.
When Willow heard his silly wish,
She was sure her little client,
Thought that if his wish came true,
He would become a great big giant.
But, if Brussels was a giant,
He would no longer fit his bed,
So she went to see the cabbages
And she made them all small instead.
If you don’t believe my story
And I’m sure you have your doubts,
Ask your mom, when you’re out shopping,
To buy you some of Brussel’s sprouts.
One Minor De-Tail

Mister rabbit stood
At the Old Wishing Well
And wished that he had
A bushy long tail.
He threw in some nickels
And pennies and dimes
And wished a hundred
And twenty-three times.
He spent all the money
He had to buy food,
Which had gotten him in
A terribly bad mood.
Why hadn’t he noticed
The sign by the stairs?
“The Old Wishing Well
Is closed for repairs.”
Wishes may be reversed”
But Rabbit wished anyway,
The wish he’d rehearsed.
It had warned that all rabbits
Should read the sign well
And not wish for things
Like a bushy long tail.
So for trying to be
So smart and so clever
Rabbit’s tail just got shorter
Much shorter than ever.
And the one silly thing,
The thing that’s most sad;
Is that rabbits now have
Shorter tails than they had.

“My wife has changed me, “said the man.
“I no longer have bad habits.
I go to church every Sunday
When before I hunted rabbits.”
“She taught me how to dress real neat.
And taught me music I should like.
She taught me to enjoy fine arts
And made me sell my motor bike.”
“Now classical music is my taste
And I feast on gourmet cooking.
She cut my hair and trimmed my beard
And now says I am quite good looking!”
“She made of me a brand new man,
With brand new friends who all agree,
I have to dump her now because
She isn’t good enough for me!”

First Love
by Wayne Edwards

On my first day of class 
I knew she’d be my girl. 
Those dimples and her smile 
And that bouncy little curl.
The other boys just melted 
And turned to mushy goo 
But I was sophisticated, 
I knew just what to do.
On the kindergarten playground 
I’d let her know I’d picked her. 
She smiled and took my words away, 
So I ran, but first I kicked her.
Sisterly Love
by Wayne Edwards

My sister gives me her old clothes.
She always gives them to me free.
And I wonder why she does it,
I guess it’s because she loves me.
It must be a major bother,
Having to go to the clothes store,
‘Cause when she gives her clothes to me,
She always has to buy some more!
Warm Love
by Wayne Edwards

Shirley was a timid child, 
Such a ragged little waif. 
She hung around the mission 
Because that’s where she felt safe.
Her parents let her wander, 
They just didn’t seem to care. 
As long as they could claim her 
When they went to draw welfare.
She lived in Old Shantytown, 
Just a bunch of makeshift shacks 
Built out of crates and boxes, 
Over by the railroad tracks.
She had a ragged dolly 
That she carried everywhere; 
Dolly was her constant friend 
And she treated her with care.
It was the Christmas season, 
The mission decorated 
With the life-size manger scene, 
Its members had created.
The days and nights were frigid, 
When just breathing hurt your nose, 
The mission struggled daily 
To furnish warm coats and clothes.
Their new manger scene drew crowds, 
It became a source of pride. 
Passersby stopped to leave gifts 
In a box that was supplied.
That’s why the pastor wondered, 
Who would desecrate the scene? 
To put that thing with Jesus, 
Why would someone be so mean?
Then he recognized the doll 
That was in the baby’s crib. 
How could such a timid girl 
Treat the manger scene so glib?
When he found the little girl 
In the mission, keeping warm. 
He asked about the manger, 
She said she had meant no harm.
“I had no gift for Jesus 
Like the wise men did of old 
But I knew so very well 
That the baby must be cold.”
“So if the little baby 
Can be Jesus, don’t you see? 
I thought it would be okay, 
For my dolly to be me.”
“My gift to Baby Jesus 
Is just me, to keep him warm. 
I’m lying close beside him 
And his head is on my arm.”
“I no longer need my doll 
Because Jesus is my friend 
We’ll always be together, 
We’ll be friends until the end.”
Then the pastor hurried back 
And put Dolly back in place. 
You could tell he had been touched, 
By the teardrops on his face.
If you see a manger scene 
Way up north, where it is cold. 
You may just find two babies, 
At least that’s what I’ve been told.

I wrote this poem several years ago so I no longer remember whether I heard the story from someone or if I made it up. Like in my poem, Baby Jesus, the preacher was too quick to pass judgment. The little girl was raised in the same type of surroundings that Jesus was born into. She had experienced cold and was willing to give her most treasured possession to Baby Jesus to keep him warm. The little girl’s doll, like the widow’s mite, was all that she had to offer.
  Secret Love
by Wayne Edwards

I know somebody with a crush on you 
And I know somebody who likes your looks; 
Someone who’d like to walk you home from school, 
Somebody who’d like to carry your books.
I know someone who writes you unsent notes; 
Somebody who loves everything you do. 
And if I weren’t so awfully bashful, 
I would come right over and tell you who.
True Love
by Wayne Edwards

You think I love you just because 
Your Daddy gave you all that money? 
I would love you just as much 
No matter where you got it, Honey!
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