Suckling Pigs

Suckling six at dusk of day,

Pray sow don't roll the other way,

Let no farmhand’s urgent need,

Intervene the timely feed.

May each these piglets weaned,

Roam farmland fields and in-between,

Where siblings play, in stock, with stout,

Might not a single go without!

Then when the slaughter hour draws nigh,

Hear not the farmer’s wife give sigh,

For pigs has served her well thus far,

As many more by breakfast hour.

©Philip Holden

2003

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