Wren Not Hen Has My Love
When I loved the Hen was then:
A hen sings not like a wren;
Hence, not in my Good Books Hen
While, there, safe and sound Wren!
The sounds hens make not for pen
If poets did adore them: when?
He was no poet: George O Ben,
Never a verse dropped: Friend ken.
Hens Ben loved fried as chicken,
Time Ken would invade kitchen...
Prefer I rare wrens to hens;
It's been one wren worth ten hens;
Only few men avoid Brown
Or would Brown confront and frown,
While I know that hens' cackles
Sound much like serious tackles.
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