Sometimes the best poems are the naughty ones; case in point: Chaucer.

I don’t know about you but I enjoy a naughty poem a lot more if it’s written in yesteryear – like this one is (early 15th century).

It’s simple, crude, and funny. And it’s a fave.

I have a gentil cock
croweth me day
he doth me risen early
my matins for to stay

I have a gentil cock
comen he is of great
his comb is of red coral
his tail is of jet

I have a gentil cock
comen he is of kind
his comb is of red sorrel
his tail is of inde

his legs be of azure
so gentil and so small
his spurs are of silver white
into the wortewale

his eyes are of crystal
locked all in amber
and every night he pertcheth him
in my lady`s chamber

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