In the town, the cock don't crow
With comb erect, the randy so and so.
There ain't no hens who run for cover
From the strutting, beady eyed, insistent bugger.

The bird that greets the dawn in town
Sings from the top of the chimney's crown.
"Look at me, look at me," it loudly brags,
And another joins in for a right chin wag.

"The sun's up, wake up, get up," it sings
To his dowdy partner who silently brings
Worms for the little 'uns in the hedge
While dad can't wait for them to fledge. 

Published by poetdoesarun

I started running 16 years ago to help manage anxiety and depression and found the endorphins helped me in another write my sermons for Sunday.... and then inspiration came for poetry. A Christmas present 2017 was a book by Jo Bell, challenging the reader to write a poem a week for a year. This blog showcases these and other poems composed on the run.

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