Debs in the Henhouse

Four Debs in the hen house, our agenda unclear.

We peer over the yard, see who is there.

That rooster struts past, his color flamboyant.

‘Slut !!” Deb did say with acid annoyance,

We all moved in close cause we care.

Our feathers were fluffed, demeanor looked strong.

Then there was Eddie, our drinks, they were ready.

Deb laid an egg.

The day, would be long.

Deb fed the jukebox and mumbled some garbage.

We all wiggled our tales and scratched at the carpet.

Red Rooster the song, Mick Jagger he rocked!!!

The Stones gave us our courage, they knew how to trot.

In Debs henpecked life what she did it was wrong.

As Deb said, from her box, when she favored.

“They can get plucked !!!.

We nodded our heads,

We knew what she said and the song.

Deb