Tale Of The Golden Bird

A delicious tale.

 

“Tale of the

Golden Bird”

Zests of lemon on my

Buttery breasts makes

Me savory to the

Hungriest tongue.

 

My baked juices roll

Down my golden baked

Skin with the first

Slice of your razor

Sharp cutlery.

 

The gaping

Hole in the core

Of my soul, isn’t content

Until you choose to fill

My hollow cavity with

Your skillful greased hands

And your heart’s desire.

 

I maybe just a

Ladybird to some,

But the belle of

The ball to most

Who have acquired

A taste for my

Moist tender white meat

On their salivating

Palette.

 

White wine goes well

With my mild yet

Succulent taste.

 

I’m plump and

Juicy when raised

In a free open range

Environment,

Able to cluck and

Roost wherever

I wish to

All day long.

 

I’m the most

Elegant Hen

Of the Den,

I’m a Grade A

Chicken.

 

Author's Note

Caution: Be aware, if you are a vegetarian or you are fasting you may not want to read this poem! I think I was hungry when I wrote this poem.

Reviews

[Mauricio Montoya]

Nice work, hopefully well done. (the bird)