August 20

Feathered Backyard Pets

_____________________________________

It’s hard when pets are companion to you

With chard they would be dinner for others

My yard is playpen for my feathered few

Regarded as farmyard to another

When one of my chicks has met her demise

The run no longer safe for happy hens

When fun has turned to tears escaping eyes

I’m done tamping the grave, sad once again

When wings and legs are menu selections

Crying over chickens is frowned upon

A thing to save for fuzzy affection

A sting allowed only when pets are gone

Adored as much as bowwow and meow

Therefore deserving of waterworks now.

_____________________________________

(A Beymorlin Sonnet)

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