THE ROOSTER

The stately old rooster a-strutting did go,

His dun-coloured feathers all waved to and fro

In the hoary air of the morning.

And his busby of red

Hung over his head

As all other fowls he was scoring.

The fierce rain came on and his feathers he dropped,

And into the little black barrel he popped,

And here he remained till the short shower stopped,

And the roof of the barrel stopped mouring.

Willie Johnston

Tullygrawley School