He’d strut about the chicken run

harassing all the others.

Rumour had it as a chick

he’d eaten all his brothers.

One day the farmer’s wife appeared

intent on gathering eggs.

It was hot. She wore shorts,

revealing ample legs.

Reggie,so just like a male,

could not resist temptation.

He started running at the bait

without pause or contemplation.

For actions always, always beg

an opposite reaction.

If he had known what was to come

he might have paused a fraction.

I don’t know if chickens laugh

or if they can guffaw,

but, at the sight of flying Wife

the whole farm paused in awe.

Reggie struck hard from behind

and well above the knee.

She went screaming through the air

and wasn’t screaming ‘wheeeeeeeeeee…..’

Wife landed in a blooded heap.

Reggie knew he’d gone too far.

She limped away cursing him

and left the hen run door ajar.

The afternoon was deadly still,

the farmyard, eerie, hushed,

knowing this his only chance

to freedom Reggie rushed.

‘That sodding cock has got to go!’

‘I don’ t care how you do it,

and when he’s really good and dead

I intend to stew it!’

‘Ring his neck, chop off his head,

throw him in the river,

but bring his body back to me,

the cat can eat his liver.’

‘Yes dear.’ Farmer quietly agreed

while tending to her bleeding.

He knew better than to laugh

till safely outside weeding.

That evening as she stayed in side,

her injuries were resting,

Farmer checked on all the hens

and found them happy, nesting.

Without the bolshy cock about

peace on the run descended.

Not a one was missing him?

Reggie was offended.

More to the point

outside the safety of the locks

Reggie was a sitting duck

for any passing fox.

That was the big dog’s thinking

as he trotted up the lane.

The security of the run

had always been his bane.

The scent of Reggie in the air

so far, so out of place,

the thought of chicken for his tea,

put a smile on Reynard’s face.

He spent so many nights,

skulking round the yard,

finding Reg was easy stuff

catching him was hard.

Reggie slept high up in a tree

in the middle of the farm.

It gave him just the vantage point

to keep him free from harm.

He knew about the hungry fox,

the cats and weasels too.

He knew that they all fancied him,

as a meal, he would do.

Reggie, in his psycho way

feared none of them, not he.

‘ I know who would always win

in a fight ‘twixt them and me.’

Then came the fateful, moonless night,

Reynard’s chance to try his luck.

It never did occur to him

his plans could come unstuck.

A pallet had been left

leant against the trunk,

it made a perfect ladder

and fox up that ladder slunk.

As Fox began to climb

and up the tree did rise,

Reggie leapt down, spurs outstretched,

and caught the fox between the eyes.

Poor Fox hit dirt

with Reggie still on top,

he didn’t fancy supper now,

he just wanted Reg to stop.

Reggie had his dander up,

he was going for the kill.

The fox was shocked, stunned, confused

and felt a little ill.

Reynard got up off the floor

he knew that he should fight

,but, choose instead to bolt and run

after such a fright.

He started running in a daze,

Reggie clung onto his neck,

it’s not easy hanging on

while you also claw and peck.

With in the house the dogs did bark,

a face was at the window,

Farmer peered into the night

in hopes he’d see the show.

They’d heard the fox and rooster too

as they battled in the gloom.

In bed Wife just smiled and sighed

at the thought of Reggie’s doom.

That morning all about the farm

were traces of the battle;

the smell of fox, broken pots,

upturned feed for cattle.

There was no body to be found,

no corpse he could deliver

Wife was really just as pleased,

though her cat missed out on liver.

On the farm was happiness

for about an hour or so,

then every one froze in place

as the cock began to crow.

Bedraggled but not beaten

he came strutting down the drive.

With horror everyone could see

that damned bird was alive.

His feathers were somewhat askew,

he was extremely battered,

but, Fox was never coming back,

to Reg that’s all that mattered.

He stopped in front of them

and they just stood and stared.

Reg flapped his wings, crowed three times

then turned to them and glared.

The tension, as they say,

you could cut it with a knife.

There was hatred in his tiny heart

especially for Wife.

Reggie planned to take revenge

on everyone who wronged him,

but, being just a flashy chook

he was really rather dim.