Easter Feaster
Hard-boiled eggs for breakfast
and deviled eggs for lunch.
Plus pickled eggs for dinner
and eggs on toast for brunch.
Some eggs at every meal.
An egg for every snack.
They’re always in my lunchbox,
my pockets, and my pack.
We colored eggs for Easter
but might have made too many.
And now we’re kind of wishing
we hadn’t colored any.
When Easter comes next year,
I hope that we remember.
This year we made enough
to last until December.
— Kenn Nesbitt
Copyright © 2024. All Rights Reserved.
Reading Level: Grade 2
Topics: Easter, Food Poems, Holiday Poems
Poetic Techniques: Hyperbole, Irony, Narrative Poems, Repetition
About This Poem
Every year when I was a kid, my two brothers and I would each color a dozen hard-boiled Easter eggs, usually on the Saturday before Easter. The next morning, our parents would hide them around the yard for our annual Easter egg hunt.
Coloring the eggs and hunting for them on Easter morning was always great fun. Unfortunately, that also meant we had three dozen hard-boiled eggs we were expected to eat. We would have egg salad, deviled eggs, and even just plain hard-boiled eggs every single day for about a week.
As you can probably tell, I was thinking about all those eggs when I wrote this poem and I wondered what might happen if your family colored way more eggs than you could possibly eat.
By the way, if you like this poem, here are a few more you might enjoy:
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