Poem of the day: The interfering chicken and the clucking mocking moo

Arriving at Red bank farm, near Morecambe by the sea,
The windy weather’s taken its gusty toll on me

In flusters from the blusters I play twister with the tents
When several swear words later , all my energy’s been spent!
So like a star shaped splat on the tent, I count to ten and try to calm
When onto the poles, rudely strolls a hen form the local farm
“Go away’ I say “ Can’t you see I’m having trouble!”
But the hen hell-bent, was well intent on giving me a cuddle
I try my best to shoo the fool and shove it in a clearing
But the reluctant hen, by then was just enjoying interfering

11 minutes later and the demon hen,
finally starts making feet,
While I battle with the gusts and forceful winds
before eventually admitting defeat
And then back turned, my guard now dropped, I hear I clucking sound,
Expecting to see the devil hen as soon as I turn around....

But there was no bobbing headed creature, there was no fluffy bird,
Just a farmers cow who’d become dethatched from his ever distant herd

But on turning back to sort the tent, the clucking did re-emerge
But all I could see when looking was Mr. Cow, munching on his verge

Suddenly I realised, this cow had just been clocked,
Together with the chicken, I was being frickin’ mocked
A clever hen impressionist, famous in the world of moos
But with this duo taunting, I refused to be amused

I wish the interfering chicken and the clucking mocking moo
Would cluck off out of here, ‘cause I’ve got far to much to do!