O you to whom the dinosaur is kin,
-noble cousin of emu, eagle, and owl-
I hold it as a dreadful sin
that any man would call you 'fowl'!
Alas, it's true that birds, and dinosaurs,
and men like me do die,
but you alone, unlucky avian,
endure the fate of being fried,
O, we are awed by your unlikely pluck!
as o'er your noble head a sword hangs high,
and you serenely peck and cluck,
until... ( I wipe a tear from out my eye)
you meet your end, dissected, and with carrots, stuck
into some fiendish granny's hot pot pie!
-G.L. December 2010
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3 comments:
Love it!
I spent Christmas 2010 with my brother and his family.
I had been told that my nephew wanted a 'Chicken calendar' for Christmas.
(He apparently had a 2009 'Chicken calendar' from Barnes and Noble)
Alas, I couldn't find one anywhere -and I started looking too late to find one via the internet and have it arrive on time- so I got him something else.
Then, on Christmas Day, while enroute to his house, this poem popped into my mind.
When I arrived I wrote it down -and polished it up a bit- in ten minutes.
-Jorge999
Addendum:
I'm fascinated that 'courage is the twelfth of these THIRTEEN meanings of 'pluck'!
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pluck
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