In which I share a poem that really reminded me of Lytha

Lytha is pretty sure that chickens are bloodthirsty, fiercely-pecking creatures. This has not been my experience with our current flock of Peeps, nor with Prior Hens. I'm pretty sure that Peeps--and Clucks, too--are gentle, dumb, easily-distracted birds who provide delicious food in exchange for table scraps, lawn clippings, and the occasional worm.

However, when I found this poem in The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (edited by Jack Prelutsky--a Swamplander!) I really wanted to share it.

Because I think hens are funny, and also because I'm a poetry geek.


The Hen by Lord Alfred Douglas

The hen is a ferocious fowl,
She pecks you 'til she makes you howl.

And all the time she flaps her wings,
And says the most insulting things.

And when you try to take her eggs,
She bites large pieces from your legs.

The only safe way to get these
Is to creep on your hands and knees.

In the meanwhile a friend must hide,
And jump out on the other side.

And then you snatch the eggs and run,
While she pursues the other one.

The difficulty is, to find
A trusty friend who will not mind.