Miss Mother (poem)Miss Mother (poem)4 years ago in Team Rooster
Coaxing chicks to follow her
She now quickly takes the lead
Pecking people who are close
She's not sorry to impede
As she sings her happy songs
Her babies stay close to her
In her eyes she is the best
Not caring if others stir
She loves all her chicks with pride
she is always very proud
Of her too cute chirping crew
She's kept them safe as she vowed
Raising ten is a handful
But she knows she can do it
She's perfectly productive
And will teach them bit by bit
Under Anything but the Sky (story)Under Anything but the Sky (story)4 years ago in Team Rooster
Helen Mifford, the mother of Mel Mifford, was once again in the tiny kitchen of a three bedroom ranch home. She stirred the pancake batter with a whisk and a sharp twist of her wrist, making a rasping sound against the metal rim of the bowl. The batter was soon poured onto the griddle, sizzling due to the grease still present from the previous round of bacon. Helen wiped her hands on her old tattered apron. A rooster called out to the hens from the picket fence outside. A red-head with bright eyes came inside from the back door. Dirt traveled onto the floor of the room, ignoring the place mat on the doorstep. A deep sigh came from the kitchen.
"Grammy's in the back countin' chickens," Mel said, kicking off her boots, "She's hopin' there's gonna be enough eggs to sell."
"Tell her to give me a couple before she heads out. I need a couple for later."
"Mmkay," Mel said, sneaking a piece of bacon from the steamy plate. The crunching sound the bacon made gave her away.