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Tea Time

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)


What's this? A group of hens having tea? What do you suppose they're talking about? Might they be talking about the price of eggs? Maybe they're discussing the new dress shop that just went in. Or the new supermarket. Or maybe it's the town doctor they're discussing.

The challenge is for you to tell us what these hens are talking about. You may tell us in a poem or in a story. If I were writing, I might say they were in a beauty salon having their feathers curled. lol

Fiction or fact, we look forward to your entry.








 


Tea Time

By Amy (Fabulousfilly@aol.com)


three old hens
sittin at tea
one cup for you
one cup for me


three old hens
eating scones
steepin then
eating alone


three old hens
being little bitties
sipping on hot tea
and being a bit flitty


three old hens
oh golly gee
old old friends
are all three


three old hens
knittin and purlin
still old friends
no need for spoilin


three old hens
how fun they can be
laughing and mendin
so full of glee


three old hens
cacklin
hee hee hee
one cup for you one cup for me









 


Three Old Hens

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)


Three old hens sat a clucking,
Pecking corn and a gossiping.
Old an near feeble all three were,
Candidates for Sunday dinner.


Talking about old Red the rooster,
Who really did a lot of crowing.
But Old Red woke up the boss,
He was baked for Sunday dinner.


Claudia Dominecker who did not like to sit,
Never stayed long enough for chicks to hatch,
And so she had to go.
She was fat and made good gravy


Then they, oh how well,
Condemned all of those new pullets.
They always seemed,
To keep the rooster busy.


But as the sun did set,
Those three hens went to roost,
And as the henhouse door was closed,
One said, I smell a fox in this little box.









 


Tea Party

By Mary (MusingByMary@aol.com)


"Cream or lemon", clucked Prissy,
with her feathers afluff;
"Oh, let me have cream",
smiled Miss Can't Get Enough.


"Dontcha just love tea parties",
exclaimed, Mother Penny;
"What'd we do withem"
chimed in Cousin Ginny.


"Did you see ole Foghorn"
sniffed Prissy with a smirk;
"Oy Vey" added Ginny,
"Such a smart alec jerk!"


"He thinks he's God's gift",
Mother Penny exclaimed;
"Why have ye seen all tha chickies
that carry his name?"


"I don't like to gossip",
whispered Ginny with a sigh;
'n the two other biddies
knew that was a lie.


"If gossip were dried corn
her gullet would burst";
thought Mother Penny,
"If mine doesn't first:-)!"



Mary Carter Mizrany©
February 4, 2008









 


Hen Party

By Bob (C1ydeBunky@aol.com)


The hens are not gossiping - NO - this is true! -
They'll merely discussing the news that is new.
While over the tea and the tablecloth, They
Consider all things that have happened today.


There isn't a topic that they don't enjoy,
They're not at all bashful, and not at all coy.
And all is of interest! They will never squawk
While talking of Roosters (and Cocks of the Walk).


What happens in farmyard is grist for their mill,
And of their acquaintances, who won't, who will!
Life isn't just pecking and eggs that are laid -
Important decisions each day must be made.


The biggest decision, not settled as yet -
Did chickens come first? Or do eggs win that bet?
It's easy to see that a lot of hen chat
Must occur just to handle such questions as that!


So here's to the hens, who,enjoy being smarties
Have fun with attending and hosting these parties.
The world is much happier when you don't droop -
And sooner or later - we're ALL chicken soup!









 


Tea Party

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)


A tea party most extraordinaire
The gals gossiping without a care
Did you see the eggs Henrietta Laid
I am sure that she won't get paid


They're green and pink and some have a blue tint
Why do they look like that there's no hint
Did she get into some fermented grain
Does she have any hangover pain


The hen party cackled among themselves
Her eggs won't be placed on salesmen shelves
And who does she think she is anyway
Why do these young hens behave that way


They grumbled and acted all in a rage
She shouldn't be allowed out of cage
Those are the strangest eggs that we have seen
The old hens cackled a jealous mean


But oh they were so surprised in the end
When buyers thought this the latest trend
Colorful eggs straight from a chicken's nest
Prettier than just white these were best









 


Tea Time

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)


The hens were sitting nicely,
Discussing eggs and a nest.
The roosters were playing golf,
(They all thought they were best.)


Talking about their chicks
With feathers all a-flutter.
Roosters talked chicks too,
While reaching for a putter.


The hens all traded stories
About the roosters three.
Penny said; "He thinks he's still a stud!
But you sure can't prove it by me!"


The sips of tea went quickly
Soon the hens were eating candy.
The tea cups were refilled this time
With a little tea...and a lot of brandy!









 


HEN TALK

Or

Don't Believe Everything You Are Told,
For Often Down The River You Are Sold

By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)


"Oh Clucketta, I just must tell you the news."
"Now, Henny Penny, tell me it isn't something that will give me the blues."



"You haven't been talking to that Chicken Licken character again have you, retorted Egglene."
"Because if you have, I don't want to hear it, because she's one brick shy of a load, if you know what I mean."



Henny Penny wanted to tell them that Chicken Licken said the sky was falling, and she was afraid it might be true.
After all, Chicken Licken was on her way to tell the King, and that was something that she really must do.



Chicken Licken had been eating lunch one day when an acorn fell on her head.
She surmised the sky was falling and was certainly filled with dread.



Henny Penny wants to go with Chicken Licken to tell the King,
But also Cocky Lockey and Goosey Loosey, she wants to bring.



Clucketta is against the whole trip and so is Egglene.
They think that Henny Penny will get into trouble with Chicken Licken's scheme.



Of course, they are right as Foxy Loxy will enter the picture, and he is not what he seems.
He wants to use them for his benefit instead of helping them, and he can see them as the dinner of his dreams.



The moral to the story is "Don't Believe Everything You Are Told;"
Or you may end up in a stew pot as a plot begins to unfold.









 


The Clucksters

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)


Once upon a time
On the side of a green-treed hill,
Lived a stand of white leghorns
Bright poultry with orange bills.


Their chicks were fine and healthy,
Their roosters loved them so,
And happy hens lay big round eggs,
Their lives were good to go.


Folks all around the villages
Came to hang over the fence,
A finer stand of hens they’d not seen,
You could buy them three for six pence.


Farmer Wilson had a little girl,
So he bought her three for pets;
She dressed them up and showed them off,
You might think that’s as good as it gets.


But little Millie was enterprising
Showed her "girls" at a travelin’ show,
They were famed all over the land,
Millie pulled in wads of dough.


The "Clucksters" sold a million records,
While sitting at their table of tea,
Until Millie flew the Concord to Paris,
To dine on chicken fricassee.









 


The Hens A-Clucking

By Barbara (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)


See the old hens clucking away
Having tea and gossiping
I see the tea cozies but the knitting has been put down.
Busy seeing who can tell the most.
Wonder who didn't come to this tea?
That is who they are clucking about.
Busy but not productive.
Old hens taking the best part of the day to gossip.
Tis a shame they can't find a better job.
One that would help and not hurt.
Knit the sick child a warm sweater.
Or the old person a shaw.
A lap quilt for the legs. Perhaps a visit ..
Oh well, maybe they will think of something.









 


Rooster Ben

By Connie (CSThomas@aol.com)


Three cackling hens
With nothing much to do
So they sat and gossiped
While sipping on their brew.


Their talk mostly centered
On their mate, Rooster ' Ben.'
He'd strut around the yard....
Actin' the master of the den !


' We're not producing chicks
Like we once did before.
Ben is showing his age, and it's
Something we can't ignore.'


Little did he know
These ladies of the yard
Have eyes for another
And his name is Rooster Bard


Bard lives down the road
With a harem of lively hens
' Do you think he'll want us;
Do you suppose he'd let us in ' ?


' But Ben is always on his guard
We'll need to work with speed
We'll have to create a diversion
Then hide behind those weeds.'


When Ben went to look behind the house
The three unlocked the gate
Off they ran to Bard
Who was waiting for his mates!


The framer saw his gate was open
And the loss of all his hens.
He went to the barn to get his axe
To chop the head of Rooster Ben !



Connie 2-05-2008 csthomas@aol.com









 


Three Old Hens

By Lilly (Lilprincessitali@aol.com)


There were three old hens who lived out in the country.
One day they talked and thought they wanted to move.
They stole clothes off the line and hid them.
The day came when they had all they needed, they were ready to leave.


They knew that farmer Hank went to market on friday morning.
They got up early and put the fancy clothes on.
They hid in back of the truck and off they went.
They saw a little house on a small farm that was vacant near the city line.


Hank stopped at the railroad tracks and the three old hens got off the truck.
They ran under the fence to the house.
After Hank left, they checked the small barn and found hay stacked up just right for winter warmth.
The house door was open. They ran to check.
They found a pkg of tea and water was dripping.


There was a dark cloud in the sky.
They put a small pan out to get rain water.
They found corn in the yard.
There was everything in the house, plus a little porch in front.


There were four chairs and a pot with lovely flowers in it..
They were tired and went to sleep.
It rained thruough the night.
In morning they woke and went outside.


There was bright sunshine and it was warm.
They ate corn on ground and the pot was filled with rain water.
They found a big pail of more on side.
They sent out happy sounds.


They walked around in silence.
They made some tea in cups and went to sit in front.
They talked about many happy days, things, and Hank.
Was a fun time.


No way were they going back.
They would wait for Hank to find them.
Maybe he would and maybe he would not.









 


The Tea Party

By susi (Texaswishr@aol.com)


three were invited
for tea and scones
Henny Penny and Letitia Jones


Old Maude Peckin'
was third in line
no tea for her, she wanted wine


she got a taste
under the grape arbor
pecking grapes off with much ardor


Miss Penny scoffed
at Old Maude's taste
she thought a tea party was a waste


if they didn't drink tea
and Letitia agreed
while eating her scone, delicious, indeed!


so Maude gave in
and drank green tea
but said, "This is the last
tea party for me!









 


Tea Time

By Jeanie (Mingo184@aol.com)


CACKLING HENS
OUTSIDE THEIR PENS
TELLING STORIES
OF FORMER GLORIES


GOSSIP IS THEIR FAVORITE WORD
THOUGH THINGS ARE AWFULLY ABSURD
GRANNY PENELOPE IN THE MIDDLE
PLAYING HER IMAGINARY FIDDLE


POURING TEA IS QUIET LAUREEN
NEVER SAYS A WORD THAT'S MEAN
BUT SHE LOVES THE TATTLING
NEVER ONE TO DO THE RATTLING


DAPHNE TELLS OF THE CORN
THAT A NEW ROOSTER CROWS IN THE MORN
STRUTTING AROUND EVERY HEN COOP
NEVER LETTING HIS NECK DROOP


CACKLING AND LAUGHING ARE THESE THREE
PECKING ON CORN AND SIPPING TEA









 


Tea Time

By RickMack (Rmrickmack@aol.com)


Three hussy hens huddled over tea,
Content to cackle and cluck all day,
Brooding about how things used to be,
When they were young, with eggs to lay.


Recalling how the rooster, Randy,
Had an eye for each of them back then,
Feathers flying like cotton candy,
When he’d visit again and again.


About Randy, they still spoke in awe -
Such poultry passion possessed by few.
A barnyard full of hens he could draw
At dawn, with one cockle-doodle-do.


Red comb standing rigid and upright,
Around the coop, Randy would parade,
Ready to bring the hens such delight,
They’d relish learning how eggs were made.


No longer spring chickens, that’s for sure,
And the axe took Randy years ago,
But, although thrills are a lot fewer,
They still can enjoy orange pekoe.



© Richard McCusker










         

 

 



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