Eggs Over Easy At Easter.
It’s our old and loved Easter family tradition,
It’s followed with an almost religious conviction,
We’ll gather round the table in a reverential hush
And look forward to a chocolate charged sugar rush.
There the eggs lay, dark, inviting;
Or the white rabbit, ready for biting.
Every member has an egg that suits them best,
Last year, I found my Reese’s egg too rich to digest,
This year I’m making heavy going of my marshmallow
Finding my annual sweet treat’s become a trial to swallow.
As it uneasily lies there, congealing
I’m bound to say I prefer a hollow feeling.
