Sarah And Her Peeps

 

 

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I have a granddaughter whose name is Sarah Ann,
Who raises those chickens every time that she can.
She loves those little peeps as her own special pets.
They built a coop out back with chicken wire nets.

 

The coop

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sarah And Her Peeps

 

 

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The whole family raises those chickens from peeps,
But Sarah is featured for their love she does seek.
When she gets a new chick she puts them on my chest,
Where they usually poop as they sit there and rest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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She puts them on paper out there on the wood floor,
And gets to know them with a big smile they adore.
She watches them closely as they peck all around,
Eating those worms that Sarah put there to be found.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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When the chicks get big enough to go on outside,
She breaks them in slowly as they take that new ride,
Out in the deep grass almost over their little heads,
She stays there with them, then puts them to bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Those peeps grow to chicks so very fast with her care,
She feeds them nutritional food on a nice board so bare.
As she strokes their little soft backs so very tenderly.
Those chicks love her so, that is very easy to see.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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When they are ready to join the big flock just out back,
She talks to them sweetly about older chicken attack,
Advising them to steer clear of the big red boss hen,
And they will do okay out there in their coop pen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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They just got a new crop of peeps in this very day,
And they are just a rarin’ to get on down and play.
But first Sarah taught them both to sit on her fingers,
While that new chick love grin does on her face linger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ben and Sarah made a big nest in the deep clover,
Tall enough that the peeps just couldn’t get over.
To teach those young peeps how to find rolly pollys.
That to them tastes like a good cold cut Stromboli.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sarah brings new chicks in the house when we visit there,
To show them off when Pam and I come over to her lair.
We look those cute little boogers over real good,
As she tells us their names like a good mother should.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This time she put the whole batch right on my chest,
But she didn’t cover my chest good as I did rest,
And three of them messed right there on my shirt,
Kind of runny stuff as they did have the bad squirts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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When those chicks grow to young hens out in the yard,
The hens remember Sarah and still love her hard.
She picks them up and holds them and they love it so,
But that’s another story blog poem as you may know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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By Bill

 

 

 

 

 

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Thanks for reading Sarah And The Peeps,
Bill