Farm Aid Limericks
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A Farmer! -- Wanda Radowski
We love you with all of our might!
He toils from morning till night
And then when he?s ready
They call him rock stead
Cause he does it again, till it?s right.
There once was a farmer of merit
Whose plow was pulled by a ferret.
Thank goodness, of course
He was helped by a horse
Who taught me the following turret.
Make room for the starving relief.
Protect our farm families, good grief,
From losing their land
I don?t understand
How could we allow such bold thieves!
Join our hands and our hearts all today,
Sing the song of Walt Whitman, hooray!
Never give up the fight
Keep believing what?s right
And our farmland and crops, safely stay.
Blakely Wolf
There was an old man from Nantucket
he said his corn could fill 800 buckets
he said with a grin
my goats are so thin
I need them to feed on bigger nuggets.
Chickens! Chickens! chickens!
Said Sherlock, And the plot thickens.
If this keeps up
We¹ll need a bigger truck,
And have to do our books with Quicken.
(Quicken Inc. does not endorse or accept any responsibility for this limerick and the ideas expressed therein are solely those of the author and whatever chickens were involved.)
Two roosters were crowing the sunup,
'Til the farmer came out with his gun up.
Then they went quiet,
And on a diet,
And sadly gave all their fun up.
A rooster decided to travel
To the city to try to unravel
Where all his kin went
He went where the hen went
And came back still quite baffled.
A rooster's a curious thing,
A blinker, a bobber with wings.
It seems so proud to us
And does service to us
When our alarm clocks fail to ring.
Red Rooster, Red Rooster, where is the sun?
You're waiting. We're Waiting. When will it come?
Oh Farmer, Oh Farmer, it's coming soon.
Don't panic, get frantic, and prophesy doom.
When it comes a peeping, you'll hear chicks a cheeping, And I'll do Cock-ah-doodle-doo
A chicken's a chicken's a chicken
In the city or in a country thicket
A rooster's a booster
In Lubbock or Houston,
It'll eat a cockroach, a grub, or a cricket.
A rooster in the city took a train
To see his cousin in the country plain.
He came back with his hat askew
And with that on his shoes,
And said, "I'll never leave the city again."
Said a chicken to a pig in the sty,
Say, you¹re a portly, porky guy.
What goes good with bacon?
And what cha got shakin?
The pig just looked up and sighed.
Two roosters stood up on a stump,
Admiring the hens feathered rumps.
Said one to the other,
Tell you what brother,
I think they've got junk in their trunks.
All the little chicks go peep, peep, peep,
When the farmer comes drivin' in his jeep.
If they'd only known
That now they're grown,
He'll have them in for dinner next week.
Chickens ought to have a right to vote,
And so should pigs and shoats.
Then we might get smarts
Up in o-fficial parts
Instead of silly old goats.
Could a chicken be the president?
She'd have to pay the White House rent
With butter and eggs
And chicken legs
But she could make just as much sense.
Rhode Island Red ran for congress,
On a platform of stamping out fondness,
For Sunday fried chicken
And chicken fried steak,
And chickens who drive fast in Hondas.
A chicken with a glint in his eye
Climbed up on the sill with a pie.
But he was espied
By the farmer's wife,
And she had him to supper that night.
There once was a chicken in the city,
Who cackled a most musical ditty,
But to her dismay,
The tune that she played,
Was less precious than she was delicious; a pity.
A chicken in old Cincinnati,
Met up with a farmer named Patty.
Her cackle awoke her,
So she said, "I'll choke her!
And feed her to Mama and Daddy."
Chickens in cities have troubles,
And out in the country they're doubled.
They end up in pots,
And often get got,
By hawks hunting 'mongst the corn stubble.
There once was a rooster named Fred,
Who worried about losing his head.
He loved all the hens,
But said, "We're just friends.
I'm in love with Rhode Island Red."
Chickens who live in glass houses,
Should never unfeather their spouses,
'cause when farmwives see them
the skillet gets greasin',
And dampens the ardor it rouses.
A chicken in New York's newspaper,
Laid an egg atop a skyscraper.
But when the wind blew,
the nest and egg flew,
To the country where living was safer.
Said Patty, "I just love chickens,
I guess 'cause they're such easy pickin's.
You can steal their eggs,
And fry up their legs,
And they're funny and dumb as the dickens!
R. Kovacs
We joyfully go to Farm Aid
To ensure foods are family-farm made
John, Willie, Dave and Neil
Will create that Homegrown feel
With tunes of support that won't fade.
K.Packard, Misty Meadows Farm
I've dug and I've toiled all day
I've planted, fed animals, cut hay
I ask myself why
Do I work morn til nigh
Only to have my rights taken away?
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