Easter eggs

Here comes Easter in bloom,
And in front of the sweets
The little wanderers stop, envious.
They lick their rose lips
While contemplating something
That puts a flame in their eyes.

Their greedy eyes attack
The magnificent Easter eggs
That sit proudly in the department stores,
Beautiful, firm and smooth,
And watched from the sidelines
April Fools, their neighbors.

Some are white as snow.
Silky shavings protect them.
Their sides are made of sugar. And one sees, beside,
Others, showing on their dark sides
Of chocolate shining in the shade,
Of tiny carved angels.

Some are small and slender,
It seems that it would be easy
To crunch more than one at a time;
And others, taking their ease,
United, simple, fat, obese,
Spread out like bourgeois.

All are knotted with pink favors.
One feels that a thousand good things
Lodge in their spacious sides
The empty stomach and pocket,
The poor little ones, with eager eyes,
Seem to savor them with their eyes.