A cunning, cheeky, chubby cat once walked - With clothes and charms quite bold and dauntless speech; His sense about the folk with whom he’s talked Was joined by class and many skills to teach. Though living with his peers of fur and paw Was not without its conflicts or its strife, The chatty, cagey fowl would really draw His ire - which then disturbed his peaceful life. Inside that flock did dwell a certain bird - A mother hen with quite a raucous call; She drowned out all dissenting, chicken words - From in the group, or anywhere at all. But though this flock possessed a leader hen - A fuller figured, foremost bird of brown, Her domineering, forceful role would then Be challenged by her fellow flock in town. “Her baking leaves quite much in skill to be Desired” a quite slender hen of white Does whisper in her chicken group of three – Her gossip is a quite unseemly sight. “She doesn’t mend or stitch her family’s clothes – In spite of what she says in contrast to Our queries” says the hen whose figure’s shows Her blackened plumes – and shortness in her crew. “That might be so my dear but she does not Enjoy critique” the older hen of grey Replies. ”I think concerning her we ought To give her yet another chance today.” “You do no favors to your friend, your flock Or to this town” the feline then declares. “And at some point, you’ll surely need to talk About the scorn she hides in her affairs. The youngest hen of white replies “What do You know of it? She is well known inside Our village from prestige she did accrue.” The hens did nod at what they claimed they knew. “Don’t say I did not warn you” quips the cat And waves his paw while walking towards the street. The group of hens quite cross right where they sat – Still full of all their anger’s latent heat. The days did pass as all the loyal hens Did follow right behind their leader fowl. While doing chores or crafting there as friends, They made their gossip vocal on the prowl. These ventures did continue for a time - Until on quite a fateful day their chief Was absent from their meal in midday’s prime; The searching hens did find her through their grief. They saw her with a lady duck of white, To their dismay - outside her home to make Some lively chat; This gave them all a fright - And made their ruffled, chicken feathers shake. “They’ll wait for me inside the cottage of That aging crone” the mother hen intones. “They have not much to do and surely love Me more than talking to a pile of bones. “They cannot measure up to all the style You bring – as both your garments and my skill With cloth attests” she blusters with a smile And joins the hen in laughter from her bill. Dejected then, the flock of hens retreat To sit inside the cottage as they wait. Their mother hen brings paltry food to eat But still receives a most appealing plate. While plating all the food with eager aid From younger birds, a rapping on the door Is heard – the aging hen soon finds is made With knocking by the feline from before. “What brings you here, young sir?” the aging hen Inquires. “I asked for him to meet us here” The raven feathered hen replies, and then She motions him towards a chair that’s clear. The cat does glance towards the mother hen And gives her quite a puckish grin. While squirming in her chosen seat is when She then decides to elevate her chin. Defensively she hollers, “Do you bear Some words to say to me?” while crossing both Her arms in anger - as she tries to scare The cat with all her puffing chest’s new growth. “You’ve said far more than I would need to say” The clever cat replies. “The hens that sit Around you only lean upon your sway; There’s no respect, but too much fear to quit.” “You know, I am a pillar of this town!” She says with quite a haughty, pompous look. “My influential mark and great renown Can never, ever be in truth mistook.” “Well, if you are our village pillar then It’s built on shaky ground” the cat does say. “You lean upon the gracious things each hen provides – withholding much From those you sway. “Your presence here is overstayed” proclaims The short and blackly colored, bolder hen. “Inside this house are only friendly birds; Your haughty, vain, deceitful words and claims Are shown through bold and truthful feline words.” So, like a bratty, angry teenage fowl, The jilted bird – no more a mother hen, Is forced to leave and makes an bitter scowl Upon her face; she’ll never come again. And as the day grows full, the hens adore Delicious tea and treats the cat provides; The feline’s lovely mood gives even more To them than all the candid speech he guides.