Rooster Cogburn !A Poem by TomAnother blast from the past with a little poetic license thrown in for good measure!Cherished dearly are my memories grand, of all the animals I've reared by hand There's been many pets down through the years, of those now gone, I've shed tears! Cats, dogs, hamsters, fish within a pond, newts and tadpoles that there spawned, with rabbits, I’m also equally smitten did you know a baby bunny, is known as a kitten? But there was just one magnificent creature, a gift I received from my science teacher that stood out tall and proud above the rest, as of his kind he was simply the best! I got him as as a tiny yellow chick, but I fed him well and he grew up quick, indeed he was an impressive, imposing sight, with my big Sussex rooster, no one picked a fight! I bought him six fine laying hens, he needed no encouragement to make friends he soon built a reputation, bold and game, so I called him 'Cogburn' after John Wayne! One night a fox stopped by the chicken coop, its clear intent to kill this broody troupe, but not a single feather was disturbed on any head, as the very next morning I found that reynard, bloody and dead! He once had trouble from two rival, feathered foes, who charmed his lady hens, with amorous crows but old Cogburn by nature, a jealous bird, when he got wind of this, his wrath incurred! He approached those impostors with a dropped wing, his unique war dance, a cockrell thing, it ended quickly without a fuss or pain and a couple of would be suitors, ne'er crowed again! I entered him into a country, game fair, he won first prize, the finest fowl there, but I could not stay long to celebrate, as my rooster became frisky and fancied a date! He broke out of his cage and feeling perky, unceremoniously climbed upon a terrified turkey, so I rushed him back home, angry and moody, where he took out his frustrations on six hens, lewdly! Now my old rooster has long passed on, to a heavenly harem of hens, for cockrells with brawn but I’ll never forget him til the day I die, for he put the gravel in my gut, the spit in my eye! So should a love rival, attempt to woe your wedded woman, don’t just stand there gawping, like a dried out lemon, fight like a man to keep your lady true, look any unscrupulous lothario in the eye and cry out loud; “ C**k-a-doodle-doooooo”! © 2014 TomAuthor's Note
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