Chickens

Chickens, feathered creatures of the land,

Clucking and pecking, with beaks so grand,

Scratching and foraging, for bits of feed,

Their simple ways, bring joy, indeed.

In the coop, they roost, at night so still,

Comforted by the warmth, from the sun's last thrill,

Come morning, they venture, out into the yard,

Scratching and pecking, their daily routine so hard.

Eggs they lay, for us to share,

A nutritious treat, so very rare,

From breakfast to baking, they play a part,

In dishes that nourish, body and heart.

So next time, you see a chicken on the run,

Take a moment, to appreciate, all they've done,

For they may seem simple, but they bring us so much,

Joy and food, they are treasures, as such.