Hen laid eggs
Hen laid an eggs, between legs two,
No small, no big but not in zoo,
Ran after those who made slight dig,
Dog, cat and crow planned very big,
Hen laid eggs……
Hen becomes heroin when find egg,
With big noise run after with one leg,
Even scare pig and allow near no body,
How to protect eggs that is only worry?
Hen laid eggs……
Make no fun when she may have kitten,
Beautiful scene seen when run in garden,
Children love to see and catch with fun,
Prefer little kitten and make gentle run,
Hen laid eggs……
Small kids ask, what will be her task?
How to protect them, by putting a mask?
Often they look at them and draw on page,
night take them all to stay in simple cage,
hen laid eggs……
Papa and mummy, where from kittens came?
Who laid an eggs and how she played game?
Simply they observe and ask funny questions
Why kitten become cock and not small hen?
Hen laid eggs....
What a lovely fun? I couldn’t answer one?
It was more confusing than work undone?
Answered few more questions but not in full,
Avoided by telling you may get it from school
Hen laid eggs.....
How to answer questions? When faced many?
Simple they may look but nature seems funny,
better not answer question any more,
It may not be ending but more and feel bore,
Hen laid eggs......
It is not the hen but cock steals show,
People get irritation when shouts crow,
Kittens and children happy and steadily grow,
Cock serve as alarm when mighty voice blow
Hen laid eggs......
Cocks find preference and first depart,
When runs after hen even looks smart,
Hen not resist when cock’s teasing start,
But end days near when both ways part,
Hen laid eggs......
Story may be funny and more amusing,
Cock and hen story more interest arousing,
Their fight may be limited only for refusing,
Alas! We could learn more and stop abusing,
Hen laid eggs......
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Related quotes
Coloured Eggs
Coloued eggs for a culture,
And of he story of a rabbit that laid them!
Oh, this culture is yet to know the truth;
For rabbits do not lay eggs!
Why should they teach the children this way?
And of coloured eggs lay by rabbits;
But this culture cannot change,
For history had made them so.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Turtle Teachers
TURTLE TEACHERS
Having laid her eggs upon a distant beach,
the turtle hurries quickly to the friendly ocean;
she cannot navigate the land, like those who teach,
producing mirror images for self-promotion.
A turtle may spend no more than an hour on a beach where she lays her eggs and then abandon her eggs, returning to the ocean.
3/30/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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An Act
Deploring an act is to despise the person,
Others do sin as well, but what is that sin?
The entrance shines in front of you,
Take the brother of this gate, and you prosper.
Sins are to be forgiven, welcome to the good,
This gate then opens for some who do not murder.
Let felons work after heaven and hell are laid,
Eggs of dangerous properties are eaten by the criminals.
Once the eggs enter the stomach, a real wrong enters,
Eggs of hens are not lethal, but these are different.
An act so despised can never leave the soul,
And the souls can never enter the brotherly gates.
poem by Naveed Akram
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8 Eggs Laid!
8 eggs laid!
At the completed time;
8 eggs paid by the bird!
At the completed time;
However, try to treat me with respect! !
For, you keep on attacking me with your negative attitude.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Green Eggs & Ham
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
I do not like them here or there
I do not like them anywhere
I do not like them in a boat
I would not, could not, with a goat
I will not eat them in the rain
I do not like them on a train
I do not like them in a box
I will not eat them with a fox
I do not like them in a house
I would not, could not, with a mouse
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
Green eggs and ham
Green eggs and ham
Dont like green eggs and ham
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Balbus
I'll tell you the story of Balbus,
You know, him as builded a wall;
I'll tell you the reason he built it,
And the place where it happened an' all.
This 'ere Balbus, though only a Tackler,
Were the most enterprising of men;
He'd heard Chicken Farms were lucrative,
So he went out and purchased a hen.
'Twere a White Wyandot he called Mabel,
At laying she turned out a peach,
And her eggs being all double-yoked ones
He reckoned they'd fetch twopence each.
When he took them along to the market
And found that the eggs that sold best
Were them as came over from China
He were vexed, but in no ways depressed.
For Balbus, though only a Tackler,
In business were far from a dunce,
So he packed Mabel up in a basket
And started for China at once.
When he got there he took a small holding,
And selecting the sunniest part,
He lifted the lid of the basket
And said "Come on, lass... make a start!"
The 'en needed no second biddin',
She sat down and started to lay;
She'd been saving up all the way over
And laid sixteen eggs, straight away.
When the Chinamen heard what had happened
Their cheeks went the colour of mud,
They said it were sheer mass production
As had to be nipped in the bud.
They formed themselves in a committee
And tried to arrive at some course
Whereby they could limit the output
Without doing harm to the source.
At the finish they came to t' conclusion
That the easiest road they could take
Were to fill the 'en's nest up wi' scrap-iron
So as fast as she laid eggs they'd break.
When Balbus went out the next morning
To fetch the eggs Mabel had laid
He found nowt but shells and albumen
He were hipped, but in no ways dismayed.
For Balbus, though only a Tackler,
He'd a brain that were fertile and quick
He bought all the scrap-iron in t' district
To stop them repeating the trick.
But next day, to his great consternation
He were met with another reverse,
For instead of old iron they'd used clinker
And the eggs looked the same, or worse.
'Twere a bit of a set-back for Balbus,
But he wasn't downhearted at all,
And when t' Chinamen came round next evening
They found he were building a wall.
"That won't keep us out of your 'en 'ouse"
Said one, with a smug kind of grin;
It's not for that purpose," said Balbus,
"When it's done, it will keep you lot in."
The Chinamen all burst out laffing,
They thowt as he'd gone proper daft
But Balbus got on wi' his building
And said "He laffed last who last laffed."
Day by day Balbus stuck to his building,
And his efforts he never did cease
Till he'd builded the Great Wall of China
So as Mabel could lay eggs in peace.
poem by Marriott Edgar
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rAT 9
this morning i read about a red hen
laying eggs
above the haystacks
waiting
and there is this young writer
saying that
he is the hen and that his mentor
is the one feeding him
and that he is laying the eggs
and that he is waiting for
a surprise
know what? i get bored about
other people's ego
as though everything is about themselves
and that i must have to read
about them
crazy.
sometimes, i feel so angry
i like to kill that red hen that has not laid the golden egg.
i feel so humiliated sometimes
about self-centeredness
i like to let things pass and then
sit alone and empty myself like a bag without any content.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frog's Life
Once upon a lily pad,
There sat a mother frog
Hungry for some food,
She hopped from log to log
Eating flies and skeeters,
All throughout the day
Worms weren’t quite as good,
But she ate them anyway
She found a comfy spot,
And laid a bunch of eggs
Then hopped away from the nest,
With a push from her back legs
The eggs turned into tadpoles,
That swam around the pond
They started growing legs,
And turned into tiny frogs
poem by Chris Marion
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Symbols
I watched a rosebud very long
Brought on by dew and sun and shower,
Waiting to see the perfect flower:
Then, when I thought it should be strong,
It opened at the matin hour
And fell at evensong.
I watched a nest from day to day,
A green nest full of pleasant shade,
Wherein three speckled eggs were laid:
But when they should have hatched in May,
The two old birds had grown afraid
Or tired, and flew away.
Then in my wrath I broke the bough
That I had tended so with care,
Hoping its scent should fill the air;
I crushed the eggs, not heeding how
Their ancient promise had been fair:
I would have vengeance now.
But the dead branch spoke from the sod,
And the eggs answered me again:
Because we failed dost thou complain?
Is thy wrath just? And what if God,
Who waiteth for thy fruits in vain,
Should also take the rod?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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My Favoured Fare
Some poets sing of scenery;
Some to fair maids make sonnets sweet.
A fig for love and greenery,
Be mine a song of things to eat.
Let brother bards divinely dream,
I'm just plain human, as you see;
And choose to carol such a theme
As ham and eggs and tea.
Just two fried eggs or maybe three,
With lacy rims and sunside up,
Pink coral ham and amber tea
Poured in a big, fat china cup.
I have no crave for finer fare;
That's just the chuck for chaps like me.
Aye, if I were a millionaire--
Just ham and eggs and tea.
When of life's fussiness I tire,
And on my skull I wear a cap,
As tartan-shawled beside the fire
I stroke the kitten on my lap:
Give me no broth and chicken breast;
My last repast shall hearty be . . .
Oh how I'll sup with chuckling zest
On ham and eggs and tea!
poem by Robert William Service
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Putting all the eggs in one basket
Every time I leave
Mother always reminds me
This: do not put all your eggs
In one basket,
Because when I fall
All the eggs will break and I will be left with
Nothing.
Even a nincompoop understands that.
Oh mama! I do not have those many eggs
And she does not have any basket,
We sure both, have nothing to lose.
Thanks for the reminder, anyway.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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AAA......Please free Betty Please.....NEWS FLASH....AAA
The world’s largest fast food chain is to move its
Australian operation toward using free-range eggs.
McDonalds has already started using only free-range
Eggs in other countries and now its Australian arm
Has confirmed it will happen here. They use 70 million p.a.
Retail giant Woolworths reaffirmed last night it
Was reducing its reliance on cage eggs in line
With customer trend toward free-range and
Barn-laid products.
This is not a Poem but poetry to my ears
Finally the most dumb statement from the
Australian Egg Corporation
“The scientific world had still yet to form a
Conclusive argument that the welfare of chickens
Suffered in cages” and “we shouldn’t humanise
These things”..................... My answer
Ken e Hall
My Haiku Animalist
Animal cruelty
Strips their animality while
Animalizing oneself
Oxford Dictionary- ref Animalist...........Animal Liberationist
Animility......The nature or behaviour of animals
Animalize......Make a person bestial
poem by Ken e Hall
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Eggs Are Falling
Discover the unseen,
Learn the unknown like,
Red wine with a candle light;
A world of darkness is around us.
The line of poetry,
The marks of love;
Respectable to a muse when,
The teacher becomes a student.
Eggs are falling, eggs are falling!
A walk through the Saxon Forest with,
An art by the mile:
Eggs are falling, eggs are falling! !
Discover the unseen and know my mind,
A thought by an inch with a poem by the yard;
The blosson time of love is hear to stay.
Of blue rooms for love,
Of red rooms for roses,
Eggs are falling to where the trees blossom;
Learn the unknow with Red Wine.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Every Breath of a Dove
Every breath that I take
My heart doth make
A beat for the rhythm of love
Carried by the wings of a dove,
Flying round you, loving you, calling
You are still, a signal to my fluttering wings
That descends me gentle, close onto your body
High in the sky of the trees our interwoven sticks
Of love await your nest eggs...I fly away.
As the moon says goodbye sunshine peeks at your eyes
Sparkling brightly as you warm to your clutch of eggs,
I call to you for we must fly to make an appearance
By the church bell the scene is laid,
For a wedding spell.
A young couple wed embrace and kiss
Something we never miss,
For the love of a dove.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Every Breath That I Take...
My heart doth make
A beat for the rhythm of my love,
Carried by my wings of a dove
Flying round you, loving you, calling
You are still, a signal to my fluttering wings
That descends gentle, close onto your body
High in the sky of the trees our interwoven sticks
Of love await your nest eggs...I fly away.
As the moon says goodbye sunshine peeks at your eyes
Sparkling brightly as you warm to your clutch of eggs,
I call to you for we must fly to make an appearance
By the church bells the scene is laid,
For a wedding spell.
A young couple wed embrace and kiss
Something we never miss, to bless
From the love of a dove.
poem by Ken e Hall
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The Hen and the Wren
The lovely, laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren.
'Good morning. It's nice to see you now and then.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'Thank you Mrs. Hen.
I haven't seen you for awhile and don't remember when.'
The laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren, 'If you recall,
The last time we were together was a bit before last fall.'
The wren smiled and said, 'Oh yes I should have guessed.
It's spring again so I'm back to build another nest.'
The hen said, 'Soon we both will be sitting on our eggs.
Not long after that there'll be babies ‘neath our legs.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'I wish my eggs weren't so small.
Your eggs are so large that your babies will be tall.'
Well the lovely laying hen said, 'Your eggs are just right.
And that song you sing brings everyone delight.'
From spring to fall wherever hens and wrens reside,
There'll be nests, eggs and babies chirping far and wide.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Crazy Tradesmen Rhymes No2
I used to know a fellow in the farming trade,
You could always tell his chickens
By the eggs they laid;
They were small like him
And between you and me
You would have to buy a dozen
If you needed only three.
Written Autumn 1995
poem by John Carter Brown
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Eggxample
What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!
Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?
This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Blue Tit's Nest
Some childhood memories with us seem to linger
And I recall when I was nine or so
Of seeing blue tit fly from hole in standing tree stump
One April day more than forty years ago.
I stood on tip toes and tried to look inside the tree stump
But all seemed dark in there I needed light
I hurried back home for to fetch a flash lamp
And what I saw a memorable sight.
A little nest of moss and hay and lined with feathers
And nine pale eggs with freckles brown to red
Laid by the little bird with yellow unders
Blue wings and tail and tiny blue cap on head.
I marvelled at this wondrous sight of Nature
How one small bird so many eggs could lay
The memory all those years has remained with me
And I still can picture what I see today.
I still can picture forty five years later
Nine speckled eggs in nest of moss and hay
Some things from childhood always remain with us
And from the memory never fade away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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