Author Peter H. Lee I carve a small rooster from woodAnd pick it up with chopsticks and put it on the wall.When this bird crows cock-a-doodle-do,Then my mother's face will be like the setting sun. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments