Life of a Special Chicken
Love is the thing with bird beaks,
That perches in the coop
And lays an egg without a sound;
That comes out in a loop.
She wobbles to the big cool pen,
And bock's with cleverness
That echoes in the cool clean air;
Then stops for silliness.
The chicken goes to eat corn food,
Then hobbles to her coop;
She kicks and flaps to claim her roost
And falls asleep a droop.
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