In a chicken yard, an old rooster paced.
He knew his time had come to be replaced.
Roosters don’t go to pasture, when their career is shot,
A down-sized rooster fits a stewin’ pot….

With the sun coming up, he crowed once more,
Then he spied Farmer Brown at the hen house door.
“Good Morning Red” he said with a smile.
“I brought a new rooster, he should last for a while”

“You show him around, make him jump the hoop,
For he’ll be the new king of your chicken coop.”
So Red took that new rooster under his wing,
“I’ll show you how to manage this hen house thing.”

“To be a top flight rooster, you gotta be fast,
So let’s just see how long you can last.
I’ll jog ahead, then you join in.
You act like a rooster; I’ll act like a hen.”

The old rooster took off and ran real hard.
Then the young rooster pursued him thru the chicken yard.
After a mile or so Red was tired and sore,
He new he couldn’t handle this pace much more.

Just stay head, he thought, with a grin.
He knew it would all work out in the end.
Then came the clatter of old Farmer Brown
And next came the ‘BOOM’ of a shotgun‘s sound.

The young rooster went down, his feathers flew,
Why, he’d been blown clean near in two.
Farmer Brown walked over, said “This is bleak,
That’s the third gay rooster I’ve had to shoot this week.”

“Red…I’m sorry…I don’t know what to say.
How come all these young roosters are swinging the other way?”
“Well I give up…I don’t know what to do.”
“I guess this old hen house will still belong to you.”

The moral of this story couldn’t be much bolder,
“The strength of youth don’t measure to the wits of the older”
‘Cause when you’re an old rooster, you gotta get shrewd,
When the cook pot’s a-boiling and you’re about to be stewed.

03/02/2009

Posted on 03/03/2009
Copyright © 2026 Fredrich Mohre