A CUTE FAT PIGGY BROACH

He was pinned on a jacket as proud as he could be,
Everyone admired him, for he was as cute as could be.
He was round and fat, a nose and little legs and ears,
He travelled far and wide, had no worries or fears.

One day he came to Canada on a jacket of black,
He seemed to enjoy himself, said, he’d not go back,
But hide away in a closet and find another coat,
Then he’s be seen different people, have a little gloat.

He was missed, we searched for high and low,
It seemed silly that a broach would be missed so.
But all the family looked all over the place,
But we could not see his happy chubby face.

He hid so well and never found the light of day,
Till part of the family upped and moved away,
And there behind the skirting board he was found,
Legs sticking up, head and his face to the ground.

Everyone was pleased that the pig was alive and well,
And soon he will travel to his owner a tale to tell
Of how he wished to wander across the world so fair,
But now he knows he wants his mistress to be there.

M Ann Margetson © July 16, 2000
2000/Acute

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