Ken The Rooster

This is a poem I wrote with my mum once when I was young


Ken The Rooster

Ken had a life in suburbia,
But the neighbours didn’t like his crow.
He started up at 4am,
Just to let them know
The sun is coming up,
Get ready for a brand new day!
But the neighbours weren’t ready for a wakeup call,
They had him sent away!

So Ken came to us in a cardboard box,
To live with our free rangers.
We kept him separate for a while
Until the rangers were not strangers.
Ken was full of self-importance,
Although a scrawny little boy
He strutted up and down the fence,
As though a wound up toy.


He was a little Belgium bantam,
All the way from town you see,
He was black, with white specks on him
His wings were quite droop-ie
Ken was half the size of all the hens,
But did not seem to care,
He wanted to get amongst those girls
He thought it was not fair


And so we let him in,
With all the bigger hens,
He could strut around night ‘n’ day,
Then start all over again.
Ken started crowing at 4 am
But we all just ignored him.
He thought that he was the king, the boss,
That all the girls adored him.
We hadn’t the heart to tell him the truth,
Out there in the paddocks of home,
That that poor little guy
Had short man’s syndrome.

Then the tragedy happened,
It made us oh so blue.
We found that Ken could not be found,
We knew that it was true.
The great big carpet snake,
That had been eating all our eggs,
Took Ken away for dinner
And ate those scrawny legs


We miss that little rooster,
That cute little guy,
So if you ever own a rooster
Be careful!
… The snake may come say hi!