Farmyard Antics 114 Poem by Phil Soar

Farmyard Antics 114



I strolled into a farmyard
As a cockerel crowed out loud
The livestock woke too early
And they gathered in a crowd
They came up with a master plan
To stop these early calls
By searching for that cockerel
And cutting off its balls

Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: farm
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