It began with a rooster.
Before there was a chicken, or an egg; there was a rooster. He was as 'cocky' as they come and, in the way of roosters, he managed not only to ruffle a few feathers, but to send those feathers flying.

There was not just A Rooster; there were many roosters - not all in one barnyard - in neighboring barnyards. It was when the rooster invaded the adjacent barnyard that the feathers flew.

There was a chicken or two having the normal domestic hassles with those fragile eggs. The chickens pretty well kept to themselves. They were busy on the home front and had not much time to gad about. And there was the odd guinea hen (common fowl) not as dedicated to the brooding habits as the barnyard hens.

Garlic was hung to ward off blood suckers. But this proved to be nothing more than an ineffectual old maid's remedy. For feathers flew none the less.

Cupid, with his mixing and stirring ways was whispering to that cocky rooster - “What of that cute lil' common hen? Seems to be a lot looser than the barnyard home bodies. More of a wanderer an outdoor kind of bird....”

The rooster left the barnyard. Other roosters conferred - even fought for the rights to a variety of hens. But the squash was smashed, seeds spilled, the garlic sat by and did nothing and for a brief time the common fowl assumed a simple glamour.

The moral to this stormy tale? - A rose of course.

Julie Oakes