The Rooster
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The Rooster
He strutted ‘cross the barnyard tall and proud,
away from all the bustle of the crowd;
the other roosters in the yard felt cowed,
to him they meekly stepped aside and bowed.
Rhode Island Red to others he was known;
the yard’s top bird, to all he wanted shown.
One day a pullet walking on her own
approached red rooster standing all alone.
“Dear sir you’re quite the standout in this room
all smartly clad and dressed in bright red plume
and standing by yourself may I assume
you’re unattached and lonely, I presume.”
Replied the rooster, “Dear cannot you see,
that others always step aside for me,
and I’m the one, I think you would agree
that any hen I wanted, it would be.”
“Oh, really,” she replied with snarky grin,
“then why I ask your party seems quite thin,
and I’m the only caller who’s within;
perhaps it’s time that you and I begin.”
“My dear young hen you’re simply not my type;
you’re far too ordinary is my gripe,
and I prefer a hen who’s much more ripe
for I must always live up to my hype.”
“I see you standing proudly in your frock,
and I can see you’ve been around the block;
you’re nothing but an old conceited cock,
and you deserve a nagging hen to rock.”
June 27, 2019
Copyright © John Gondolf | Year Posted 2019
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