Leave it to hen,
to have me writing poems again.
The chickens are free range now,
I love how they follow me, WOW!
We are getting plenty of eggs each day,
A healthy protein, that can be cooked in any way.
Wait, that hen looks a little shady,
Crap, he's a rooster, should we call him Brady?
He is so busy doing his job,
I think I might call him Bob.
My son says, "No, don't put him in the oven!",
"We'll just call him McLovin'!"
I'm just kidding, about the oven thing! I think I might have a future in chicken poetry! What do you think?
Make a miracle today.