February 2012
10 posts
There once was a chicken named Cluckle
She wasn’t a dog or a duckle
She caused lots of harm
As she drove round the farm
In the farmer’s old big red truckle
Cluckle’s dear friend was named Sunny
And although you might find this quite funny
She had 17 legs
And laid purple eggs
And was convinced that she was a bunny
The two chickens were hatching a plan
To run as fast as they can
While rolling their eggs
With all 19 legs
And trying to catch up with a van
The van was laden with eggs
That were not the chickens’ but Greg’s
His van drove to market
But Greg couldn’t park it
He went home and had six drinks from his kegs
The two hens ran to market street
And made their eggs taste nice and sweet
They dipped them in honey
And sold them for money
And then bought themselves a nice treat
Our story is now nearly finished
So eat up your plateful of spinach
And we’ll give you sweet eggs
(They’re the chickens’ not Greg’s)
That we got from a market in Greenwich