The following poem was published in this month's edition of Aviary Chatter, the magazine published by The Rare Bugie Club in WA.

 

BREEDING ROOM BLUES

 

 

That wretched big cock

 

Has not filled an egg

 

And my very best hen

 

Has broken her leg

 

Sometimes I feel

 

I could pack it all in

 

When the chick in the nest

 

Has a head like a pin

 

 

 

I rant and rave

 

At the silly young hen

 

That abandoned her eggs

 

On day nine or ten

 

Now she's sitting again

 

With the husband she chose

 

Her very last chance

 

So we'll see how she goes

 

 

 

I've heard about cocks

 

That are vicious at best

 

Attacking their young

 

On leaving the nest

 

When it happened to me

 

I was raucous and loud

 

And uttered some words

 

Of which I'm not proud

 

 

 

I've given myself

 

A thorough old scolding

 

For breaking the egg

 

I was carefully holding

 

But for all my tears

 

And the words I have spoken

 

The shell is all crushed

 

And the eggs remain broken

 

 

 

A hen that has been

 

A gem in the past

 

Plucked all of her chicks

 

From the first to the last

 

I shared them all out

 

To their rellies and friends

 

In the hope that one day

 

The wounds would all mend

 

 

 

One nest's full of chickens

 

Another has none

 

So I divvied them up

 

And everyone won

 

Their crops are all full

 

And the parents content

 

Watching over the brood

 

In the way nature meant

 

 

 

The kitten has opened

 

The cage with her paw

 

Knocked over a bottle of water

 

All over the floor

 

While her brother is standing

 

With paws on the table

 

To eye off the cock

 

That is married to Mabel

 

 

 

Things hum along

 

And all's going well

 

Then out of the blue

 

Comes the pairing from ***

 

The hen lays her eggs

 

All perfect and white

 

Then smashes the lot

 

In the space of a night

 

 

 

I paired up my Lute

 

With a nice Olive hen

 

In the hope that he

 

Would have daughters again

 

But they seem to have

 

Got themselves stuck in a rut

 

With son after son

 

Of cocks, there's a glut

 

 

 

Then all of a sudden

 

Things start to go well

 

No chicks that are dying

 

Or dead-in-the-shell

 

The Dad's are all feeding

 

Their wives and their chicks

 

The nests are all full

 

With a five or a six

 

 

 

And wouldn't you know it

 

The season is done

 

My rings are all used

 

To the very last one

 

The flights are all full

 

Of the next year's winners

 

And the duds have been sold

 

To buy seed for their dinners!

 

Edited November 5, 200816 yr by renee

That's great! I'm just waiting for that second last verse to arrive