Down the Rabbit Hole

From the German prison camp designated as Stalag XX a British soldier wrote to his small daughter:

In a burrow like a bunny father has his little lair,

Sleeps and eats and reads and lazes, sometimes coming tip for air;

Puts his head beneath a trickle when he wants to have a wash,

Bumping into other bunnies cause there's something of a squash,

Every morning he is counted, every midday he is fed,

And they lock him in his burrow when it's time to go to bed.

If he wants to go out walking, lots of beefy men with guns

Say they'd like to come out with him just, you see, in case he runs.

Many, many times I've wondered what it would be like to go

Down dark, damp and draughty tunnels like a bunny--now I know!

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