NaPoWriMo #16: Easter Jamming

It's been a long time coming, but to celebrate Easter I've brought Flying Hare and the River Band out of retirement to play a suitably off-the-wall NaPoWriMo gig.

Easter Jamming

The band gathers in a field
just outside a market town,
Flying Hare, Roving Otter,
Father Vole, Smoking Goose,
joined by Manic Owl.

They go looking for eggs,
which an industrious bunny
had hidden the grass.
Goose finds his first,
Otter second, Hare third,
Owl fourth, and Vole last.

With the sun in midday zest,
the man grabs their instruments
and plays a grooving, mellow tune.
A tribute to the egg hunters
around the countryside
who are taking a break at noon.

Hare flies into rapid-fire
on his blistering archtop guitar.
Otter thrummed on his shimmering bass,
Vole rattled his drums,
Goose trumpeted like a wild fowl,
and Owl played his sax all over the place.

At sundown the animals go home,
bags full of chocolate eggs,
their instruments well-played.
They feast on the eggs till midnight
and go to bed with full stomachs,
ready to start jamming the very next day.

Flying Hare

Waking up in the meadows,
I want to see what the fuss is.
Think I'll go to the riverbank
and see what's jamming.

The rabbits are by the water,
chilling with the ducks
and moorhens on the riverbank.
That's when I arrive.

I cross the bridge and join
the rabbits by the bushes.
It's a good place to relax
while the ducks do their thing.

I meet a few friends of mine:
Roving Otter, Father Vole,
Smoking Goose. We
kick back in the summer sun.

J. B. Mink cruises by, staring,
which petrifies poor Vole.
Mink swims away downstream.
Makes my ears twitch.

Somewhere on the meadows
the swallows and the skylarks
are singing a groovy symphony.
We go over to check it out.

(The video version of this poem is up on the YouTube channel at this link: http://youtu.be/54xxP1NK7os)