PUZZLED for Leslie Alexis
The peacock parades exquisitely.
Displays the glory of his tail,
the hens ignore him easily.
This bold display was bound to fail
The peacock has misjudged his time.
The hens aren’t ready to be wooed.
Although he thinks he is sublime
it’s not the time for hens to brood.
He’s young and inexperienced.
As yet he does not understand,
his tiny brain still hasn’t sensed.
The hens not he are in command.
The females don’t appreciate
his urgency he’ll have to wait.
20-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
The Difference Between A Rooster And A Man
on the grass i see this rooster wearing a thick red comb,
tall for its lowly status, and well muscled as may be gleaned from the
thickness of its black, red and white feathers
how can he notice me stopping by to observe it
when its attention is focused on two slender hens
one is red the other white getting near it
and without any inhibition at all he copulated on each
of those two slender hens, quickly as a quickie
i can imagine in a few days, the two hens cackle with
lots of eggs for the owner now prepared with a big basket
to bring the produce to a crowded market
if i as a man does what a rooster does, you very well know
what happens next
it will be the people of this republic v. ric
and his dismissal from the government service
it makes me think however, on the other hand, the happiness of
the owner selling more eggs in the market because the rooster
had been kind and obliging to the two hens and the other hens in the yard
what about it God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Cocky Morning
don't be
malicious
the cocks
are sounding
off their
horns
to greet
the hens out there
good morning
and of course
the hens
crackle and giggle
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Familiarity brings liking
A cock loved with his commune hens.
Into yard, he started loving other hens.
Into jungle, other fowls too are appealing.
Once used to, you love any breed of woman.
30.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Watching The Chickens
the strong cock
struts its way
towards a
group of hens
and as there
are too many
of them
hens, the cock
in confidence
does what is
of most service
to its master
he fucked them
all
for the eggs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Peacock
A pleasant stroll,
The peacock takes
On its way back,
Each evening.
The sun has set;
The moon has come;
The air is cool;
’Tis twilight time!
The peacock walks
Effortlessly,
Amongst house-sites,
On lanes of own.
All through the way,
It feeds on leaves
That sprouted new,
A few days’ old!
A feast to eyes
Of young and old,
The peacock runs
On seeing men.
A hardy bird
With colored plumes
That gives its stroll,
A majesty.
Across the fence,
Over the bush,
It gently flies,
If need should rise.
It makes no noise,
On way back home;
It has walked miles
Unknowingly!
No snake dare near
The alert bird
That wards off foes
By flying low.
And when it’s dawn,
The dancing starts
On terraces,
As pea-hens watch!
The national bird
Of India,
Is protected:
‘So, please don’t kill! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-6-2010
poem by John Celes
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Merriments alike
Peacock and peahen gathered under a tree.
Cocks and hens thronged in a yard.
Ganders and geese collected in a pond.
They all had their parties and merry making.
In each circles there were queens and kings,
Admirations and adulations,
And infatuations and adulterations
With passion and lust alike in each sect.
24.09.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A precious acquisition
Honesty,
A virtue so precious.
With it,
Lives are saved.
Without it,
Are lives destroyed.
Honesty,
A precious possession.
The humble,
Like a guest embrace.
The greedy,
Like an enemy they shun,
And with mud,
On its face they smear.
But the fools,
Like a stranger they fear.
Honesty,
A precious possession.
Its lovers,
To hens are metaphored,
But their ridiculers,
Are the hens themselves,
For God,
Honesty initiates and loves.
So anyone,
Who honesty champions,
Will for eternity,
God's friend remain.
Honesty,
A priceless commodity.
poem by Michael Wamalwa
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The Famine and The Feast
THE FAMINE
Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
None in the manger, and none in the shed,
None in the box where the chickens are fed,
None in the tussocks and none in the tub,
And only a little one out in the scrub.
Oh, I say! Dumplings to-day.
I fear that the hens must be laying away.
THE FEAST
Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
Two in the manger, and four in the shed,
Six in the box where the chickens are fed,
Two in the tussocks and ten in the tub,
And nearly two dozen right out in the scrub.
Hip, hooray! Pudding to-day!
I think that the hens are beginning to lay.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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They wrangle about an egg, and let the hens fly away.
3: 51 A.m.
the cocks in the neighborhood
inside their fences are crowing
others answer the call as though
telling we are already awake and
ready for the day's fights,
one cock however remains rested
between his two ash-colored hens.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bad times came to be; hens on thrones we were to see.
When the fox preaches, take care of yourselves, hens.