November 21, 2019

The Publisher speaks: Scrabbling

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Joan E. Wilson

I wrote this poem twenty plus years ago when chickens were having a bad time scrabbling for food because of the new development in George Town. Yes, this was before Camana Bay changed things.

Since then, the chickens moved out, multiplied, and have become a pest. Chickens weren’t the only ones who have moved out now. It would seem every big business have moved to Camana Bay. The chickens haven’t, though. I can’t remember seeing one there, not even DARTing here and there.

However, they’re everywhere else.

Spare a thought, though, for the days of old when the bush fowl were really scrabbling for something to eat.

SCRABBLING

(A BUSH FOWL’S VIEW)

By Joan (Watler) Wilson

Things have really changed a lot in George Town.

Just see for yourself have a good look around.

Homes and gardens that were full of children playing

Have all been torn down for commercial buildings,

And I’m very saddened because you see

As chickens this was all our territory.

Worms and grubs and bits and pieces

Were tastier around here than in most places

We were used to roaming, you could call us free range.

We weren’t used to being fenced in or crammed in a cage.

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And as cock of the roost I crowed day and night

But with all this development we’re pushed out of sight,

But I still strut around with my Rhode Island Reds

And we scrabble for food in the landscaped flower beds.

We really don’t care how much damage is done

As long as me and my ‘chicks’ can strut and have fun.

So we’ll take a chance whilst strutting around

For me and my chicks really love our George Town,

So watch out for me when you go round those bends

I’ll be somewhere near with my lady friends.

END

From Joan Wilson’s “Buried Treasures Of Cayman – My Memories”

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