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Peeps Poetry:
Peeps can be downright inspirational.
FIRST PRIZE - The Incredible Peeps Storybook
dianna_gregory:
I'm not really sure how to enter my Peep story into the contest because mine has pictures to go along with it, and the story just isn't the same without the photos. I have it on my website at: http://www.feick.net/humor/peeps/
Hope you like it!
HONORABLE MENTIONS
Joey_the_Dog:
Haiku
________
Oh wonderous Peep
Yellow Chick and Pink Bunny
I prefer mine stale.
Sweet and Sticky Peep
I am covered with sugar
Revelling in Peeps.
Stay, sweet Peep, please stay!
I can no more bear your loss.
With clearances, death.
You whisper my name?
Marshmallow and memories,
your sweet vice remains.
agentdiesel:
Easter morning of 1996 was one I will never forget. My mother said the day before that I would not be getting an Easter basket. I said that I understood. After all, I was in high school headed for college. I was growing up. It seemed, however, that the Easter bunny thought differently.
I went to bed the night before like any good growing girl should... beauty sleep and all. I thought during the night that I had heard some rustling about my room, and when I awoke, I was very surprised, indeed!
All over my bed were marshmallow Peeps. Both bunnies and chickens. Pink, blue, and yellow peeps swarming all over my comforter. But something startled me above all else.
Taped to my toe was a simple haiku:
"We are Easter Peeps
We attack only at night
Eat us or you die"
My mother claimed not to have had anything to do with this. I place the blame on the bunny.
shuaige:
April Peeps bring May Weeps
Oh the joys of spring...sunny days, fragrant
flowers, and the sugary bliss of the delectable and
unequivocally-best-tasting-treat-the-world-
has-ever-known, that is, the PEEP. As the end of
March ushers in the beauty of April, my mind is
consumed with thoughts of bunnies and chicks-- pink,
purple, yellow -- I love them one and all. My spring
days are ever prolonged by this compulsion, this
craving, this need to savor the marshmellowy, sweet
goodness that calls from afar...
As Easter nears little ones look forward to baskets
of goodies and bunnies, but I, I look for Peep..
Peep! Peep! But oh, Easter is just one day! Easter
is here! But on Monday, dire, fateful Monday will
kidnap my sweet...Peep.... Peep will not be found
among the half-price jelly beans or chocolate
bunnies...no! Peep is gone! This phantom visits once
a year...his stay is short, his journey long. We
shall meet again, my sweet Peep, for May is here...
and I weep...
infrared35:
My attuned ears picked up a faint rustle in the tall, dry grass ahead of me. Could this be it? I had lived my life in preparation for this moment but I was nonetheless filled with anxiety and dread; anxiety from the thought of taking home an empty game bag and being laughed at by my peers, and dread from the remembrance of all the stories my grandfather told me - stories of people who, like I was doing at that moment, walked up to Father Danger and punched Him in the eye. Most did not live to tell their tale. Most were found some time later, their bodies horribly accented by scores of marshmallow-tinged bite marks. They sought to bring home the ultimate trophy, the ultimate award for their skill and bravery: a Peep. Ah, yes... it was that allure that brought me here today - to have on the wall of my den a freeze-dried yellow minion of unspeakable evil. Surely I would never have to put my manhood to the test ever again once people knew what I had accomplished.
A more urgent rustling sound brought me out of my reverie and my five senses began to tingle with the imminent danger. My grandfather's trusty old Enfield rifle seemed weightless in my clenched hands even though only an hour earlier I had joked with my friends that the Enfield had to be one of the heaviest rifles ever made. Soundlessly I pressed forward, gently parting the tall grass with the Enfield's muzzle before putting cautious foot ahead of cautious foot. Was that a shock of bright yellow not ten yards ahead of me? I froze, softly sniffing at the air for that faint sugary odor. Did I smell it? Or was it my imagination mockingly letting me smell a victory that was just out of my grasp? After what seemed like the rest of the day passed, I carefully moved again. This time I was rewarded with a full glimpse of the little yellow horror - now it was within eight yards of me, crouching on the ground like they are known to do. Ever so slowly, not wanting to startle the Peep (s! ince their vision is somewhat li mited but they can detect motion easily), I raised the old Enfield to my shoulder and took careful aim. A brief thought passed through my head that my grandfather had probably seen the exact same thing in his youth - those cold iron sights slowly coming to rest on their brightly-colored prey. It filled me with a sense of pride at the dangerous tradition and then the thought was gone as my target moved a little, as if aware of my presence. I readjusted my aim and squeezed the trigger, sure that this moment was fleeting and this was my only chance. My haste provided just results; as my ears began to ring from the muzzle blast of the old rifle, I saw a large clod of dirt explode just to the left of my target, showering the area with dried out soil. My yellow goal was nowhere to be seen - or was it? To my horror I saw a flash of yellow racing through the grass: directly at me! I am pretty sure I gave a startled yelp as I quickly worked the bolt on the Enfield. I managed to squeeze! off another shot before th! e Peep was gone. I stood frozen for a moment before I was able to tell myself to start breathing again. That was a little too close for comfort. I never imagined having such a direct encounter with the creature when I set out on my mission. As terror and panic gave way to more rational thought, I relaxed my grip on the Enfield, chambered another round, and started looking for clues on the ground so I could attempt tracking that little hate-filled Easter treat. I knelt down and was rewarded with a small bit of scorched marshmallow, white on one side and yellow on the other, and a trace of gunpowder residue along one edge. I had hit him! And now that he had been hit, I could smell his fear as surely as I could taste his sugary coating dissolving in my mouth. Again making no sound, I followed the trail to its logical conclusion: an old hollowed-out log. When in danger, Peeps instinctively seek out cover that reminds them of the cardboard boxes that they're born in. I came around ! the log in a flanking maneuver a nd laid down in the parched weeds, sighting down the barrel of the Enfield as I slowly crawled forward, knowing what I would find but not knowing when. At last, I could see the soulless thing, skittering around inside the old log as if looking for a better place to hide. There would be none. Without even realizing it, I had pulled the trigger to hear the Enfield bark its loud report for the third and last time that day. I was rewarded with a splash of yellow and white marshmallow and a dark cloud of pulverized wood. I sat still for a few moments, watching and letting the ringing in my ears subside. Finally I slung my grandfather's rifle across my back and crept forward. All at once I was nauseated by the awful sight of the Peep's remains, and filled with a sense of awe that I had been successful in my quest. I took out my Swiss Army knife and began to gather up what remains could be identified, and I deposited them in the zip-loc bag I always carried with me. As I returned to ! my grandfather's cabin, I p! ondered my life. Would grandfather be proud of me for succeeding where he had failed? Would he be ashamed that I had wanted to follow in his dangerous and perhaps foolish footsteps? Had I become a man on that day? Or was I still a boy, not mature enough to realize that life was not all about Peeps? Only time would tell, but my trophy was sounding better and better in a mug of hot cocoa rather than on the wall in my den...
Jazzycat:
TEN THOUSAND PEEPS
Oh, I can't wait for next week!
For then, the little chicks I'll seek
at Wal-Mart, 'cause they'll be real cheap
For Easter will be done!
I will buy ten thousand peeps--
Yellow, pink, and purple peeps--
My heart will do a little leap
When I buy those boxes of fun!
And so I then go on a spree
Lo and behold, what do I see?
Ten thousand Peepers, just for me
at the Wal-Mart store!
And when from the store I'm free
I go home all full of glee
I have myself a jubilee
For discount Peeps galore!
Now this is when the fun begins.
I throw the wrappers in the trash bun
and eat each Peep from end to end
And I won't look back!
I eat ten thousand sugary friends
and just when I think the fun won't end--
I keel over next to the trash bin
and everything went black!
The doctor said I was real sick.
"We've got to pump your stomach, quick!"
Oh, why'd I eat so many chicks?
For I'm stupid, you see!
In my head, yes, something clicked--
My greediness had made me sick!
My wolfing down ten thousand chicks
Was as foolish as can be!
I still love Easter candy, yes,
and sugar rushes have such zest!
But now I'll just have chocolate eggs
When sugar buzzes are what I seek.
For I have given Peeps a rest.
For no longer do I love them best!
I learned my lesson by a rough test, so
NO MORE PEEPS for me!
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