’twas the night before New Years, and inside the house

I was getting perturbed with my children and spouse

So I made an excuse and went out to the coop

Such a nice, quiet place (though it was filled with poop)

The chickens were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of mealworms squirmed inside their heads

When I opened the door, they all started to cluck

And to whistle and bwawk, and one quacked like a duck

A nosy hen strutted over to my feet

And pecked at my boots until I took a seat

So I hugged her and patted her soft, feathered back

And gave her some scratch grains from a nearby sack

When she’d finished it all she flew back to her beam

To roost with her friends and continue to dream

Somehow I felt better as I turned to go,

And walked back inside through the glistening snow

What is it about them that makes things all right?

Happy New Year, my sweet little cluckers! Good night!