Learning about chickens
Last year I was given some chickens
Of which I did not know a lot;
I gave them a home in my orchard,
Then read up to see what was what.
The book that I took for instruction
Said that chickens must have some protection
From cold, and the damp English climate,
From foxes and chills and infection.
So an outhouse, I used for the purpose,
And covered the floor with some hay;
Then I sat back to wait for them laying,
Expecting a dozen a day.
But at night they seemed nervous and jumpy
And I knew not for what they did search;
'Til my father-in-law said, 'you nitwit!
Don't you know that a bird needs a perch? '
So I took his advice and I chopped them
A branch, upon which they could roost;
My knowledge of chickens now growing,
Their comforts now given a boost.
Then I found from a friend that a nest-box
Would help to persuade them to lay;
My chickens were then more contented
And gave me my breakfast next day.
Then along came the cold winter weather
With a worrying dropp in supplies;
But the book said that this was quite normal
And in summer, production would rise.
Yes I'm learning a lot about chickens
And their greedy omniverous diet;
And the order enforced by their pecking,
And that cockerels can't stand being quiet.
Now I'd say, in my humble opinion,
That it's better to give chicks a name;
Then identification is easy, and,
If there's trouble you'll know who to blame.
But trouble was rare in my orchard,
My flock of ten enjoyed their days;
Belinda and Sally, the elders,
Five others, marrans, and all greys.
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poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
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