Chicken Poetry?

In honor of Last night's Greensboro City Council decision to spare the life of Gus The Rooster, I bring you the following bite of Grade A, Extra Large, Chicken poetry. Enjoy your breakfast.

Little, The Chicken

Little was a chicken
who chose to fly the coop.
“I’ll not be some man’s breakfast,
sold for pennies-- dirty loot.
I’m off to see the world,
make my own way,
save my life...”

The other chicken’s only stared.

So Little, he flew
farther than chicken’s ever go.
A new world lay before him
but little did he know
the butcher’s axe he need not fear
for Little was a crow.

Comments

[Michelle Bailey]

I love this poem! Truly!
Wonderful, and I smiled which I needed to do today. Interesting information on bloggers meeting up in North Carolina.
Have fun and don't work to hard!
Michelle

[Billy The Blogging Poet]

Thank you Michelle. Compliments are always appreciated.

[Doug]

Congratulations! I didn't see the broadcast but I heard the good news.