A Poem for a Pig

The Half-And-Half Pig

The Half-And-Half Pig

On Easter Monday The Half-And-Half Pig was surrounded by constant admirers.  I lost count of the people who asked for a poem about him.  So I’ve written one, to his orange eyelashes.

The Half-and-Half Pig

Snout to shoulders he’s dipped
in Tamworth orange, smooth
as a carrot, his father’s son.

Ribs to rump he’s paper-white,
coarse as a yard brush, ink-blotted
by his Old Spot ma.

 

 

 

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