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.