Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Schipperke

Another blast from the past - busy again today.
























There was a little chicken
His name was Schipperke
He spied a green bead in the grass
But thought it was a pea


He plucked it out between the blades
And dropped it in his craw
He didn’t know how blind he was
It was a tragic flaw


Several hours later
It flew from out his ass
It shot across the chicken yard
And killed the farmer’s lass


It hurt our little Skipper
In body and in mind
He liked the girl with golden curls
So glossy that they shined


But poultry can be mean and they
Cared not about his hurt
The other chickens thought that they
Had finally hit pay dirt


Now you can witness, any day
With many squawks and clucks,
The chickens loading up our Skip
If they point him at you, duck!

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