A silly poem about a rabbit

‘Twas midsummer’s morn and in a field, a little rabbit sat, thinking of his life, and other things like that.
He thought of the clouds and of the fish in the sea,
and he thought of the fields and of the fridge in the tree.
‘A fridge? In a tree?’ said he, ‘Well what a funny sight!’
But with a CRACK it fell on him, and killed him dead - outright.