518 : Presenting...

The Little Wet Hen

In times way back when

There was a little wet hen

Who panicked over matters quite small.

For the littlest of things

She’d flap her wet wings

And cry that the sky would soon fall.

At first folk took heed 

Of the doom she decreed

But nothing was as bad as she said.

So, as time showed her liable

To be quite unreliable,

Few cared for the squawkings she spread.

This did nothing to reduce

The dire warnings she’d produce—

To stop now would mean losing of face.

So she continued her addiction

To calamitous predictions

But, for the record, the sky stayed in place.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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Some of you may recognise this chook,

The rest of you can consider yourself lucky.

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