I talk to chickens!A Poem by Tom![]() There's method in my madness?![]()
Don't think me bananas, cause I talk to Brahmas
Sussex, Leghorns and Rhode Island Red, all breeds of chicken, scratching and picking from early morn, till they go to bed. Each bird has a name, no two the same, Pinky and Perky, each as big as a turkey, Jenny, Henny-penny, just a few of many, hilarious, gregarious and quintessentially quirky. I have no human friends, just a large flock of hens and my wife ran away some years ago, once cheek by jowl, she threw in the towel when my Rhode Island rooster began to crow, with stern scowl, she said, ' me or the fowl? So alas, I had to let her to go! No, I'll not renege on a hen or fresh egg and should one ever talk back, I'll know I'm 'crackerjack' for though chickens are clever, they cannot whatsoever converse in two way conversation, except for Winifred my Wyandotte, who tells me, " it's people who have lost the plot" and I agree with her astute observation! © 2017 TomAuthor's Note
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