Every fall equinox year by year,
Woodland critters gathered from far and near.
Beneath the ancient grandmother tree,
There was truly no better place to be.
Birds chirped from branches high.
Crickets sang beneath the orange sky.
Foxes fiddled bluegrass tunes.
Owls hummed softly underneath the moon.
Squirrels rattled acorn shells.
Cows rang their very own bells.
Every creature,
Great and small,
Shared their music and gave their all.
One by one the bands would play,
Bringing smiles throughout the day.
Cheers and clapping filled the air.
Then one final act took the stage to prepare.
They carried old crates in second-hand gear as curious creatures gathered near.
Old guitars and drums well worn.
They wore jackets and pants,
Tattered and torn.
There stood Andy O'Hare with bass and pause.
A rabbit unlike most critters ever saw.
Leather jacket patched with pride,
Safety pins along each side.
They plucked one note,
Then one more.
A rumbling sound overtook the forest floor.
Then came Dutch Thumper,
Brave and bright,
Blue curls glowing in the lantern light.
Ripped jeans and cowboy boots well worn.
Her presence was announced.
The star was born.
Her voice leaped high,
Her voice sank low.
She danced swiftly like the breezes blow.
Next came Molly Cottontail,
Following the woodland trail.
Dark sunglasses framed her cheeky grin.
Combat boots were laced up tight.
She was ready to begin.
Her fingers skipped from key to key.
She played fast and free.
Her hair was curled as tight as a spring.
She made the woodland creatures dance and sing.
Then Duke Carrotsticks took his seat.
Every rabbit watched his feet.
He twirled crisp carrot drumsticks in the air.
The crowd watched as the wind blew his bright orange beard and hair.
Buckets bounced.
Old barrels shook.
Every creature stopped to look.
Last came Bodhi D.
Bunny,
Calm as any rabbit could be.
His bright green mohawk was standing tall.
His guitar and vocals rocked them all.
The woodland critters chanted encore,
Encore,
One more tune.
They would not let the band leave too soon.
As cheers rolled through the autumn night,
One chant sounded just right.
Punk rock rabbits,
The forest cried.
The starlight seemed amplified.
From that night beneath the oak,
Every woodland creature spoke of five young friends who dared to play in their own authentic way.
Their songs still echo through the trees,
Carried along with the woodland breeze.
