the frenzied chocolate chickens
have all at last calmed down
as now their Easter eggs are safe
since the rabbit has left town
peace has at last descended
now they’ve stopped their raucous clucking
and their feathers are much sleeker
since they stopped their nervous plucking
the eggs are now returning
from whence they had been hid
and the chickens think they’re safe now
but I’ve got a pot and lid
I fancy boiled eggs
not those soft chocolate kind
just plain and simple hard boiled
that is what is on my mind
so Easter may be over
but the danger to their eggs
is ever present all the time
if they only used their heads.
© ceenoa
Ceenoa 
Moral of the story: All of us are only one cluck away from a startling baptism in a bucket of boiling water. Oh wait, I might be confusing this with my now-defunct career in the world of telecommunications. In any case, I like mine over easy, gooey and messy, just like life. With a side of biscuits and sausage gravy because, well, everything is better with sausage gravy…
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With eggs???? Sausage gravy??????Hmmmmmm……
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🙂 “a startling baptism in a bucket of boiling water” – I like that 🙂
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Marvellous
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Many thanks Rajiv.
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Poor chickens- just too darn dumb…………..
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yeah, you’d think they would wonder why they don’t have a family the size of China.
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Loved it! But Oh, those poor deluded chookies!
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Yes 🙂 Must be that the size of their heads just doesn’t allow for much thinking.
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I’m glad I’m not a chicken. I’d rather be a bunny at this time of year.
Great poetry, Claudette.
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Thanks Hugh. Don’t think I would want to be either of them really.
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Poor chickens… This did make me smile! 🙂
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Thanks Al.
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oh, poor chicken. I enjoyed reading this fun piece.
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Thanks Imelda, I had fun writing it. Thanks for dropping by.
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