Chickens Everywhere!

As I was lying in bed tossing and turning between 2 and 4 this morning, a wonderful poem by Jack Prelutsky crossed my mind.

Mr. Prelutsky, an American writer of children’s poetry, was named the first Children’s Poet Laureate by the Poetry Foundation in 2006. Β He lives in Seattle, Washington and spends much of his time presenting poems to children in schools and libraries throughout the United States.

The first time I read this poem I absolutely loved it! Β I hope you do, too.

 

Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens

 

Last night I dreamed of chickens,

there were chickens everywhere,

they were standing on my stomach,

they were nesting in my hair,

they were pecking at my pillow,

they were hopping on my head,

they were ruffling up their feathers

as they raced about my bed.

They were on the chairs and tables,

they were on the chandeliers,

they were roosting in the corners,

they were clucking in my ears,

there were chickens, chickens, chickens

for as far as I could see…

when I woke today, I noticed

there were eggs on top of me.

~Jack Prelutsky

Wishing you sweet dreams!

29 Comments »

    • Thank you! The black chicken was Thelma. She was so funny–lots of personality. These are different chickens. I had them about 5 years until a small fox found its way into my fenced pasture and aviary last fall. I had one chicken out of fifteen survive. This is only because Honey, a chicken who doesn’t walk well, was in another part of the yard when the fox visited (Honey can’t leave coop on her own). I went out to check on the chickens in the afternoon and found the fox leaving the scene. It was heartbreaking. But now I’m looking forward to raising my new chicks. They’ve really grown in the past week. We’re hoping to move them into their coop soon. I’ll post a picture update this week. πŸ™‚

      Like

  1. Wow I love that poem it was so beautiful and just the perfect ending to a wonderful night love it and also adore your chickens I can’t wait to get mine:)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Such a cute, fun poem. And loved those heritage chickens, and admire you letting them “free range”.
    I grew up on a farm, and we had 200 egg laying Rhode island Reds, who lay wonderful brown eggs. Mom sold the eggs at the door, and she bought grocery items not produced on the farm.
    That was 30 years ago, we moved off the farm after dad died. But this post brought back cherished, precious memories.
    Thank you for sharing Tonya. πŸ™‚
    ~Carl~

    Liked by 1 person

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