Tag Archives: hens

The girls

August 4, 2018Chickens, Life, poem, Poetrychickens, garden, girls, happiness, hens, Life, poem, poetryThe Cheesesellers Wife

They comment as they watch me weed
and as I go, they start to plead
for freedom from their boring pen
restrictive to a busy hen.

Now free, they root, scratch and dig
As efficient as any pig
Rustling through every flower
I watch to while away the hours

Later, the washing that I carry
Commands attention, so they tarry
Weaving about by my feet
Hoping it’s something they can eat

Finally it is time to end their roam
I need to get these chickens home
A line of treats upon the grass
Leads them back to the pen at last.

Dave the Chicken

February 5, 2018art, Chickens, nature, Painting, Pets, watercolourart, chickens, hens, Painting, watercolourThe Cheesesellers Wife

A painting of our oldest hen, called Dave. I’ve tried to indicate movement:

Dave belongs to my youngest son, who is 17 today.

The other nations of this Earth

March 26, 2017beauty, Chickens, Life, nature, Pets, philosophy, poem, Poetry, Wild lifeanimals, beauty, Earth, Henry Beston, hens, humanity, Life, nation, nature, philosophy, Wild birds, Wild lifeThe Cheesesellers Wife

The other nations of this Earth

The other nations of this Earth live along side us
Misunderstood, undervalued, used and abused
So many of us not longer see them
We fortunate few may wilfully misunderstand
But many see the truth, see the power and strength
Even in a hen, blackbird or crow
Animals are the other nations of this Earth
Caught in the net of time
Travellers with us on this one green globe

“….the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”
~ Henry Beston

Robin in the fig tree

December 17, 2016beauty, Chickens, Christmas, garden, Life, love, nature, Poetry, Wild life, winterbeauty, Carol, chickens, Christmas, Fig tree, garden, hens, Holidays, Life, nature, philosophy, Pidgeon, poem, poetry, Robin, Ted Hughes, tree, Wild birds, winter, XmasThe Cheesesellers Wife

Robin in the fig tree

What are the words?
Bright, cheery red, bob-bob-bobbing?
My Robin has read Ted Hughes
He pulls worms fighting from the stiff soil
Terrorises chickens, birds a hundred times his size
Fights to the death for territory
He is now lurking in our small unproductive Fig tree
That leans awkwardly out of a fake ceramic tub
The pigeons by the pond look uneasy