A Hen Called Betty!

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Betty & BrendaOver the course of the last few weeks a fox has been killing our hens in broad daylight. I suppose I should have known that naming them was: a) asking for trouble, b) childish, considering I’m a grown farmer and c) likely to see a dramatic decline in egg numbers. I was right on all counts and by the weekend we were down to just Betty, her dancing partner Brenda having gone two days before. Drastic times called for drastic action…

The fox has been busy,
been killing again,
all that he left us,
a solitary hen.

She kept looking about
“Where the others be?
They seem to have deserted,
and gone without me!”

Betty’s been looking,
around for friend Brenda.
Wondering what she said,
that could possibly offend her.

It wasn’t much fun,
for the lonely old hen,
to spend her day wondering,
When her life would end.

So she’s gone to a new home,
about five miles away,
So we have no hens,
The farm’s silent today.

© Baldock Bard 2013
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