ARBA Educational Contest Winning Silly Poem about Rabbits

I entered this in the creative writing division of the ARBA youth educational contests in 2007, where it won a rosette.  If you are a youth member and planning to attend the ARBA convention in Indianapolis, you might enjoy the educational contests.  It’s like the arts and craft division at fair.  You can enter posters, displays, crafts, woodworking, and much more!  You bring your exhibit to convention, but you must pre-enter by September.  Details at

Now, here for the poem.  And though it’s not a true story, it’s one I could easily see happening to me!

Lamentations upon Selling a Certain Junior

…that isn’t a junior anymore.


I walked up to someone I knew

Asked, May I see your buck?

I heard you’ve done real well with him,

(Congrats on your good luck)


I mean the son that last month won

the Polish national show.

I have some young breeders with me

And they would like to know


To tell the best from all the rest

To cull and to decide.

She got out her black buck, I said,

That’s great, now step aside!


So I stood there with schoolmarm’s air

And showed those kids her black.

Had to highlight which points were right

For nothing did he lack.


This little man, as I began,

Has just the sort of head

That I wish more of my Pol’s wore

It’s not too short, I said.


And it’s not wrong, not stretched too long

But full with rounded cheek.

That curvature between the eyes

Is what all breeders seek.


His eyes worth gold are big and bold

Their liquid brown is right.

Eyes carry fifteen points, you know,

They must be round and bright.


I have no fear that this buck’s ear

Is the best that I’ve seen.

See how strong and straight they stand,

Don’t bow, scissor, or lean?


His bone is fine, see his topline?

It’s arched so smooth and deep.

When you see hindquarters this full

It’s sure a buck to keep!





And best yet, this midnight jet

This glossy blackness just.

Without a hint of chocolate tint

Not stained with molt or rust.


I love to touch his fur so much.

Great snap to his flyback.

Textured and dense, he has it all

Painted such lovely black.


Firm flesh indeed! What do you feed?

He’s solid as a rock!

You know how much I love his fur,

It shines from nose to hock.


Excuses gone, forced hands withdrawn

From that splendid bunny

I had but then one last question,

Now, From which lines is he?


I read surprise in my friend’s eyes

She said, I thought you knew!

It sounded strange to hear you praise

This buck I bought from you!


I gasped, No kid!  She laughed, You did!

You sold this little boy.

For thirty bucks that day last May.

He’s now my little joy!


I choked aloud and then a cloud

Seemed to settle on my mind.

Here I’d been trying to teach these kids

When I had been so blind!


So this story has morals three

Three things I learned that day.

Never think you know it all,

And Let those juniors stay!


What I mean is till you’ve seen

Quite well how your line grows,

Don’t just sell off the ten-week-olds

That won’t yet win at shows.


I love have known the third point shown

But to the world I’ll state:

The other breeds are good enough,

But Polish: They are great!