Number 135, My Fat Chook

My Fat Chook.

Higgeldy Piggeldy my fat hen,

She lays eggs for me, and then

Every night I shut the box,

To keep her from the hungry fox.

Though the fence electric be,

It doesn’t seem to deter he.

Maybe he’s become immune;

I’ll have to make it stronger soon.

Higgeldy Piggeldy my fat hen,

Is one of several in the pen;

When it’s dark she makes her nest,

And settles down with all the rest,

But later on when things are quiet,

The fox turns up to cause a riot.

By then, of course, the door is shut,

And all are safe inside their hut.

Nonetheless the chickens fear,

The sounds of scratching that they hear,

And in the morning when it’s light,

The tell tale signs are there alright,

The damage caused by claws and jaws,

Where foxy tried to force the doors.

Higgeldy Piggeldy my fat chook,

Shut her eyes and didn’t look,

When through the little window he,

Tried to get a view of she.

Poor chickens didn’t sleep that much,

Terrified within their hutch,

But in the morning all was well;

Another dozen eggs to sell.

You can’t blame the fox I s’pose,

Seeing chickens just like those;

Bored with rabbits, bored with mice,

Any chicken would look nice.

Pity foxy won’t agree,

To take the bus and leave them be.

Move on to another village,
Other chicken runs to pillage.
Better still perhaps he'll learn,
How some money he could earn,

Then instead of chicken-killing,
He could spend a well earned shilling,
Buying food down at the shops,

So all that scary business stops.
Higgledy Piggeldy my fat hen
Might just sleep much better then.

© Stephen Saunders. 2013.