the hens have raised their fowl fists, protested the pecking order, debated the Cuckoo Clucks Clan, and started a coup in the coop. they have a bird's eye view from their fort, truly an eggcelent perch to reside in while they gather resources and duck when enemies fire. joining is a nestcessary evil to end the corruption. so, my dear, please don't chicken out.
i have sinned. i have faced god and walked backwards into hell writing this poem. forgive me please i couldn't resist.
The moat where we keep watery fowl afloat feeding them cracked corn scattered from our parapets. Repaired the dry rot in the gate, got the drawbridge working, again…it rusts. There is dust, makes us sneeze. Stumble over stones, look at masons askance. Threaten grain withholding (hint: barley) unless they make ‘em flush. How fun to keep the keep shiny.
Always interested in concept of time travel and having to tackle situations with modern skill set. Never turns out well.
Scrunch your nose and jut your chin Show me birds and evil eyes I want to taste the crow Strip the silver from your tongue Dangle it above my face Show me how fortunate fools can be I want to taste the crow Though all I get is grit and grizzle and Snapped raven wings So can you really blame me for Scrunching my nose?