When your mind reminisces
of an old house
on the farm,
you always think
of me; why?
I'm the
icon of charm.
When an artist begins
to paint upon
the stark white,
it is me who
begs borrow
from the palette knife.
The ladies swoon
at my entering presence,
and my deep
crow sings
of their faithful acceptance.
I strut and swagger
on the land I rule;
any threat
entering here
simply proves a fool.
I am all that you desire,
and your imagination
does arouse,
but to allow
your affections
well, this I cannot allow.
There is a reputation
I must, for the ladies, uphold,
but I will protect
your hens
to my life,
I'll be bold.
My heart belongs here;
from fear,
I face with calmness;
I'm the ruler of this land -
the rooster's promise.