Pig

 

This week you’ll find me writing
about an animal each day
So, for Wednesday, here’s a mention
of the pig. ‘Hoorah!’ you say
A whoop indeed appropriate
for this most noble creature
Which I am proud to here include
and in this poem feature

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Fridays

I think perhaps that Fridays
are of a week my favourite day
As they often happen after
four days of toil and fray

The Boar and Sow

A tender heart inside a leather skin,
In field of dirt you truffle find within.

Henry

 

I know a pig called Henry
He lives in Lancing town
He’s usually got a smile
But occasionally wears a frown
He lives in Jack’s back garden
In a converted garden shed
Nice and cosy, full of straw
And perfect for his bed

Catpig

I drew a cat for him,
at least that’s
what I thought.
He looked at me,
suspicious eyes
full of knowing,
wry smile.