(This little poem was inspired by the idea that not every Easter egg wants to be cheerful. Some just want to sit in the basket and grumble. Bah Humbug Egg arrived fully formed — cranky, colorful, and oddly lovable — and I couldn’t resist giving him his own story.)
“Being an Easter Egg, Bah Humbug”
I’m an unhatched chicken egg,
You know the kind without arms or legs.
But someone drew on me, as you can see
Now I look strange since I have a face on me.
It must be around that egg time– Easter time,
That crazy holiday should be a crime.
Kids like to drown, me, it makes me cry.
They bathe me in this awful colorful dye.
Oh, I just want to be me, just a plain ole egg,
Who wished he had some scrawny arms and legs.
As I’d learn how to hobble away so super-fast,
That would ruin Easter so wouldn’t be a blast.
With no arms, no legs, can I really escape?
I can’t jump or even slide down the drape.
Oh no! They got my friend, Phil, they cracked him,
Now Phils crying, he is going in for a hot swim!
Oh, yuk! Poor Phil, he’s now gone for good.
I would have saved him, if I only could.
He was such a good friend and a brown egg, too,
Oh, I feel so terribly heartbroken, so sadly blue.
I guess I must stay here and shed my tears,
While I tremble in this carton in horrible fear.
For the next thing they want to put me through,
Cause if I break, I can’t be fixed with any kind of glue.
Oh no, a large hand is coming closer to me!
You’re squeezing me! I’m cracking, can’t you see?
I’m a goner, just like my friend Phil.
Going for a swim sliding down that big hill.
I’m swirling, what’s going on, I’m getting dizzy,
Phil are you here, I’m getting bubbled and fizzy.
Oh no, it’s getting hot, I’m closing my eyes,
Please, we don’t want to fry, Phil and I are nice guys.
Scrambled we have become still no arms or legs,
The large hand didn’t hear our little mouth begs.
So I’ll say good-bye, as breakfast we have become,
With orange juice, bacon and toast to fill your tum.
Welcome to Cozy Poetry Corner by Debra A Winter (Richter) 
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