Life With Hens

   

Life with Hens 

(written for kids basically ?:^D)
 

One fine day, I picked up an egg

Wondering what it was

From which we get omlette dregs?

I turned it around, the oval very white,

The bottom so flat, and the top so slight.

I asked my mother,

What it was and where it had come from,

I was pleasantly shocked,

To know it fell out an hen,

Over well stocked!

My mother explained,

The story of the albumen and the yolk

Hearing it I wondered if this, knew the other folk!

I further enquired, what happened to an egg later?

The story yet to come, the end would be better.

I had this chance, to visit an old farm

I entered the coop, Wow, was it warm

I sat and watched,

Some eggs shaked, so lightly,

From a few of them emerged, beaks so tiny.

The clucking mothers helped remove,

The stuck eggshells,

The yellow bodied chicks went gamboling around,

Me, in the middle surrounded

By squails and squacks, so loud.

I asked the farmer, a Joe, if he knew the outcome,

He pointed at the seeds,

And the the cock sitting on the drum.

I saw the chicks, pecking at the feed

Replaced them with more,

Very satisfied with my deed.

The cock with his hens,

Trudged and trotted along ,

That is what they become, when age chicks gain

In all the cacophony,

Only cock-a-doodle-doo seemed like a song! -Shubham Chattopadhyay