Maureen and the Hens
It’s dark outside,
I see a light:
Our neighbour’s lamp
Is shining bright.
She straps it to her head
And ventures to the shed.
In her robe and her boots,
She is creeping along,
And I wonder at first:
Am I seeing it wrong?
She raises the shutter
And the hens flutter out,
And perch on her person;
She protests with a shout.
She is covered in birds -
Not an inch to be seen -
And the fattest one sits
Like a crown on a queen.
Food saves the day;
Hens fly away.
The chickens peck
The food she leaves;
And Maureen cleans
Her mucky sleeves. *
* decided to keep it clean and say ‘mucky’, LOL
For Sheri’s rhythms contest, Rock me Round the Clock
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment