A legion of lounging lagomorphs upon the morning dew;
with ears erect, furred statues rest except to sniff and chew.
Like uninvited relatives, they pilfer what’s undue
of Apple bark and tulip sprouts naming just a few.
Spellbound, betwixt enraptured awe and eradicating force,
I sit, accepting either choice would surely bring remorse.
Struck paralyzed, can’t swift attack nor tacitly endorse,
I contemplate my future of more lagomorphs, of course.
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