I wrote a book years ago about a girl who loved a chicken. Her name was Blessen. Blessen still lives in my heart. I don’t know her, but I know her because I created her. Here is a child I don’t know. She is hugging a chicken. I love the image and I borrowed it from Facebook. I don’t have permission to publish it, so please do not take it.
Can you create a character in a poem today? A child who loves chickens or all animals? Who is she? Explore her with a fictional poem. Today I am choosing the form of cherita which is a 6-lined poem broken into 3 stanzas. (stanza 1: one line; stanza 2: 2 lines; stanza 3: 3 lines.) Cherita means story, so the poem should tell a story. An example from Mary Lee is here.
Curly locks and black feathers
hold on to each other–
friend to friendCherishing a moment
Margaret Simon, draft
before the parade
when black feathers will fly.
There is a weird tradition here in South Louisiana at Mardi Gras when country folks chase a chicken for a gumbo. It’s a drunken, barbaric affair that I struggle with. Many believe it is harmless fun.
Leave your own poem (cherita or other small poem) in the comments. Give encouraging responses to other writers.
Reflections on the Teche 
I remember when I first read Blessen. That is the same time I met you, Margaret. The story is endearing. Let me ponder what character I will choose to write about. Your poem tells a sweet story.
Beautiful bond you created between these two Margaret! Thanks for this story prompt, Cheritas always make me think of Diane…
Here’s a poem draft to a favorite pollinator.
MONARCH WONDER
I can’t hold or hug you
You’re too fluttery and
Like flying free…
But I love watching you swoop and
sway, and you take my breath away, crossing all fingers and toes in hopes my milkweed helps you stay.
Michelle Kogan, draft
As we prepare our gardens for monarchs, I am taken away by your poem. We watch the butterflies and feel a connection; however, they are free. Lovely.
Thanks Margaret, we are still a ways off from these gem-filled beauties return.
Planting milkweed is like leaving a hug.
Such a lovely thought, thanks Rose!
Michelle, I love that that chicken hug made you think of how you can’t do that with butterflies. You keep them close with a little more finesse. Here’s to a successful milkweed crop this year.
Oh Michelle, when we had a few opportunities to “raise” monarchs in our classroom and release them, I stood in awe of every phase, and then watching them fully grown into such beauties, so instinctively flap their wings until dry enough to flutter off on their way to freedom. The green chrysalis with the golden squares is a wonder I still cannot believe. It is mind- blowing to think of nature’s gifts of art. I know you know that.
Michelle, I love your title. I agree with Denise and love how the chicken hug led you to think of hugging a monarch. Love the alliteration and rhythm in first three lines. I resonate with this beautiful image “I love watching you swoop and / sway, and you take my breath away.” Nice rhyme with those lines and the next line.
Your poem makes me hope I have a lot more monarchs this summer than I did last summer. Unfortunately, I think all the rain we had killed many butterflies. I have a lot of milkweed and other host plants, too.
Your cherita is the perfect form for this story. We have pig wrestling at our fair, and there is such controversy over it, probable much like your chicken story. I may come back and play with this photo later. Thank you for always encouraging creativity.
Love these two friends. Margaret, and your cherita.
Champ
my chickens flock for food
but Bluey
greets each morning
with a hug and a peck
my chirpy chum
my 4-H champ
You’ve read Blessen! Love “chirpy chum.”
Have to be honest and say I haven’t…yet.
Rose, what a sweet title and last line. I love the story you tell here. I like that Bluey, too, chooses to hug in your poem, while the others “flock for food”. Sweet alliteration too.
Such a spunky character Bluey is, and poem you’ve penned for Bluey, makes you smile! ☺️
So Blessen is now on my list. Somehow I missed the pet whisperer gene that many in my family had, but I adored our first granddog, Tola and now am bonded with Teddy as beloveds, so I am not hopeless. Having had cats I adored, helped but that was over 3 decades ago. So, wishing for a hug from a chicken and feeling a bond with one is out of my “comfort” zone yet I am open to learning and growing. Your poem, Rose, makes me think I would actually want to live on a farm as a child and experience being needed, the hard work of farmers and tenders and all the rest. But without that opportunity, books (and poems like yours) will help a lot!
Rose, I agree with both Maragret and Denise. I also like the repetition of the word my and champ, and your internal rhyme of Bluey, greets, and each. I love how you use your title for your last line, which is a great effect especially with the meaning a champ and your /ch/ alliteration. A sweet story.
Thanks for the shoutout!
When curls meet wisps,
Mouth speaks to beak.
Eye to eye,
So different,
but in a friendship
it doesn’t matter one bit.
Adelyn F., 5th grade
Love “when curls meet wisps”
Adelyn, I love the power in your last line. It is fun to read and we hear a bit of rhyme with it and bit. I like that the girl and chicken have a friendship. “Mouth speaks to beak” is another favorite line.
Yay for friendship and taking all in, beautiful, heartfelt poem!
Adelyn, as a former 5th grade teacher for 24 years I would be so delighted if my students wrote poems like yours. I love stanza two letting us know this is a human and an animal. Even if the photo was not there, we would understand. And the wider metaphor, summed up on your last line about friendship, is wise and true. I wish the world were filled with friends who know how to love one another and poets, like you, who will maybe teach through the truths in your poetry and touch hearts. We need so much of that. Your cherita is touching.
Adelyn, your first line hooked me. I love your comparison of “mouth speaks to beak” and “eye to eye.” I love your message in your last sentence “different, but in a friendship / it doesn’t matter. That is an important message and I agree with it. That stanza makes me think of so many others that are different but are friends. Your poem is heartfelt, and I love it. Thank you for sharing your inspiration.
Margaret, Thanks for keeping us thinking of poetry and story. That little girl is a cutey.
Pearl is my friend
Grandpa gave her to me / And now dinner is tastier
Because Mom said I don’t / have to eat chicken or meat / anymore. (I don’t like eggs now either.)
Birth of a vegan!
Denise, is your story based on truth? Your cherita reads so much like a story; I love it. You surprised me with your last stanza. I love how your humor breaks up the tension of having her friend Pearl cooked up for dinner. “(I don’t like eggs now either.) in parenthesis adds so much. Then, I reread your poem and realized that the line “And now dinner is tastier” means her dinner tastes better because she doesn’t have to eat any meat. Clever.
There is a bit of truth as my two daughters both went through vegetarian/vegan stages at different times in the growing up and now adult lives. We did have a chicken for a while as a pet and gave it to a friend and they ate it. I thought that was terrible!
Denise, I have to tell you what my grandfather did to my mother, aunt, and uncle when they were young. It was the same as your story. I forget how they realized it was their pet chicken. I will have to ask my aunt. They all cried at the table and refused to eat their pet. They didn’t grow up on a farm.
Margaret, you bring the cherita to the forefront and make me want to write one! What a beautiful form for a story. I, too, struggle with creating anxiety and fear for animals just like in the greased pig chasing contests. Poor babies!
I have been waiting since morning to write. I am babysitting our grandpuppy and the two little guinea pigs while the family is on vacation heading to historic sights. How the picture drew me in. I am not anywhere close to a pet whisperer I might add. I tried a cherita, thank you, Margaret, as always. Have not read other poems yet, but am going to try to respond to all before bedtime!
She’s a pet whisperer, my child,
dogs, guinea pigs, chickens, goats
her sweetness envelopes them, they’re mesmerized
warm voice, soft tones, soothing coos,
she cuddles as if they shared a crib together
once upon a time; they melt in her arms while I stare in wonderment.
(For some reason I copied and pasted but can’t get single spacing. So three stanzas for a cherita. Maybe when I submit it, it will change.)
She’s a pet whisperer, my child
dogs, guinea pigs, chickens, goats
her sweetness envelopes them, they’re mesmerized
warm voice, soft tones, soothing coos,
she cuddles as if they shared a crib together
once upon a time; they melt in her arms while I stare in wonderment.
This might work. Not sure what is happening but I will forge on.
Janet, you hooked me with that first line, and I think I know who she is. “Her sweetness envelopes them” is endearing. I especially love these images “she cuddles as if they shared a crib together” and “they melt in her arms.” I love your heartfelt poem.
How wonderful that you are pet sitting your grandpuppy and guinea pigs!
Thank you, Gail, for comment and indeed you do. All true.Almost mystifying to me. Check my fb post today.
Margaret, I love the idea of a poem being a short story and I like how each stanza is longer. Your poem is sweet and touching. You hooked me on curly locks. Curly locks and black feathers are great contrasts. I also like how it’s not a sentence, but it has great detail. I adore the next stanza. Few words again but full of emotion. Does your last line “when black feathers will fly” mean the girl’s chicken is going to be chased, cut up, and cooked in gumbo? If that is what you mean, then you created a lot of tension. It also seems like the last line is a juxtaposition to the rest of the story.
Here’s my try:
a ten-year-old girl
an eight-week-old calico kitten
a red ribbon around her neck
she smiles petting her gift
the kitten purrs in her ear
spooning they catnap
Gail Aldous draft
Ok, here’s take 2. I couldn’t get my lines to not have spaces between them either. I first pasted it, nest wrote it on your comments, and third tried with two spaces between the stanzas, but it still came out with one space between the lines. Therefore, I will write it like Denise did.
a ten-year-old girl
an eight-week-old calico kitten / a red ribbon around her neck
smiling she pets her gift / the kitten purrs in her ear / spooning they catnap
Gail Aldous draft
The photo of the girl hugging the chicken is adorable. Thank you for sharing your inspiration and encouragement.
Yes to cat naps with kittens.