Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

Sunday morning
peace is shattered,
without warning
ears are battered
patter of feet?
Nothing so sweet…
Damn kids are up.

Why is it so hard to get them out of bed on school days, but on Sunday they’re  yelling at each other to be quiet before 0700?? 

And one for my darling girl:pig_shed2


In the woodshed
under the straw
she’s made her bed –
beware don’t draw
too close to her.
Don’t make her stir –
let sleeping pigs…


We have one slow-combustion wood stove only to heat the house – which is usually fine, except that the pig has moved into the woodshed where she’s pulled apart a couple of bales of straw to make a cosy nest. And she growls menacingly at anyone that tries to get in to get wood. 


Filed under pig, poem

3 responses to “Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

  1. Nice! 🙂 Don’t worry, when they become teenagers they’ll all be just as hard to move.

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