In the quiet dawn, the chickens sing,
Their clucks a gentle morning ring.
They strut and peck upon the ground,
In the farmyard, a peaceful sound.
The rooster crows to greet the sun,
A herald of the day begun.
With feathers bright and comb so red,
He calls the world from sleep to bed.
Hens in nests with eggs so warm,
Life in the coop, a humble charm.
They cluck and scratch, a dance of life,
Amidst the morning’s gentle strife.
As the day grows bright and bold,
The chickens’ tales remain untold.
Yet in their simple, earnest way,
They bring us joy with each new day.