Lord Montague Ponsonby-Arkwright
Was counting his chickens one day
He'd tallied as far as eleven
When he realised - 'One's got away!'

He whistled at once for his sheepdog
From his old council flat by the church
Explained the predicament briefly
Then they set off together to search

There was no sign of chicks in the churchyard
There were none in the field by the school
Lord Montague cycled past Tescos
Shouting 'chicky?' and looking a fool

The girls nudged each other and giggled
The bin-men just hollered abuse
With no sign that Lord Montague heard them
If breeding don't count, what's the use?

They found the lost chick by the towpath
Appraising the life of a duck
His estate, once more, was in order
And Lord Montague thanked Lady Luck