Chicken In the Kitchen
I saw a fat chicken
enter mummy’s kitchen;
soon it began dancing
in a big pan, smiling.
The oil began frying,
the chicken too, crying.
Soon a sweet smell arose,
started tickling my nose.
With two eyes on the pan,
along with sister Ann,
we waited for the meat,
knowing it would taste sweet.
Soon the frying was done
and the chicken was gone.
My eyes rolled as I smiled,
enjoying like a child.
© 2017 Celestine Ikwuamaesi
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