Made by Joyce Case
Jonni, this is the chicken I posted after I made it some time ago telling of the problems I had. I wrote a little poem to go with it.
I tried to sculpt a chicken
Like the one in Jonni’s book
It turned out less than perfect
Not how it was meant to look
But my grandson fell in love with it
And took it to his home
Way up north in the Yukon
Though it wasn’t built to roam
He didn’t care about the flaws
That were so very plain to see
He thought that it was beautiful
Because it was made by me…
Your poem is as good as your chicken – both are wonderful!
Jus aw your note while having an insomnia night. Thank you so much for your kind words.
Joyce, I love your chicken, too. And your grandson is right. We must be living in the same parallel universe right now because yesterday I gave one to my brother to paint. We’ll see how he does. (Unfortunately, he won’t get the lovely poem.)
Good to hear from you. Been thinking about you.
Linda is right. A friend of mine gave me a pig made from a balloon and cigar pipes as the legs, a cup as the nose. It is precious. Take care.
How lovely, your chicken and your poem. Every time your grandson looks at it it will remind him of you for years and years to come.
Thank you, Linda. I was so pleased that he wanted it. We have lived far apart all his life so I haven’t seen him very often. I sent him the poem too and he wrote back that he didn’t know which he liked best, the poem or the chicken. Sweet!
What a delightful poem – and I can see why your grandson fell in love with your chicken. She’s adorable. 🙂