This is post is number 32 in the marathon.
Last night two large intruders came on our property. We had never seen these big black dogs before. They killed our young rooster Clyde on the spot and ran off with a black hen.. I will not know until day light if the the hen they took was Mr. Gibson. Poor Clyde. He put up quite a fight right outside the goat pen. Perhaps he saved the baby goats from the villains. I am never happy to lose a hen and it will be sad, no matter which one it was. Still I hope it wasn't Mr. Gibson. Once more it is time to rerun my poem from March 11, 2005.
DEAD CHICKEN EPITAPH
Taken by some natural wrath.
Thus comes this rendering of
A Dead Chicken's Epitaph.
A slight little sex-link hen,
Among her peers the least weight,
Enabled her continued escape
In flight over the pen gate.
Half-eaten, clipped wings grow,
She was determined to explore.
Whole-eaten this time,
To return no more.
Bye, bye black(chicken)bird..........
by granny annie
Feel free to set this rhyme to music with the last verse as repeated chorus.