Chicken Schticken Poem by Ima Ryma

Chickens crossing the tennis court.
The referee calling us fouls,
'Hen peck, hen peck, ' we do retort,
Cockadoodled from waggly jowls.
Us chickens do like to relax,
Cuz we are working round the cluck,
Making possibe the eggstracts.
We get no respect. What the pluck!
The road criss crossings we have made,
Not all cracked up to be the pick,
Like eggs that we may have mislaid.
Dance with us and it's chick to chick.

Chickens with a rhyming notion,
Are well versed poultry in motion.