Tuesday, 13 January 2009

Rita's poem

There's no hen sweeter,
than our lovely Rita,

Who looked such a wreck,
Missing feathers and wonky neck,
With glucose drinks and treats for a boost,
She soon began to rule our roost.

Rita doesn't care for the other hens,
Instead, she sees us humans as friends,
She grew lovely new feathers and rejoined the flock,
But others pecked her bald of her lovely new locks.

They're growing back now, but Rita's in fear,
So she won't let the other hens near.
If the other hens come into her space,
She puffs up her chest, saying "get out my face"

"Leave me alone for I'm now not just Rita"
"I am now known as Rita the beater"

© Lyn Ray 2009

Snoozing with "Mummy"

Why would she want to be with other hens? spoilt rotten and loved so much.

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