a statement of intent

Kiddies fiddling
with piggy’s hair?

even more Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

There’s a pig at the door

elementals II: sow

Earth bound
and earth coloured
a slow-moving rounded hummock,
head down,
trundling,
rumbling like a tremor,
as she furrows the ground,
stolidly snout-ploughing,
golem-like in obedience
to her internal code.

Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

Sunday morning
peace is shattered,
without warning
ears are battered

a ha’ sonnet for my pig

My naughty pig
with muddy snout,

Brittle gums II

Steadfast,
the stringy-barks
acknowledge no seasons.
But the brittle gums
have sensed summer’s end.
Their silver bark has darkened
and fallen away in curls,
leaving them naked,
smooth and white,
amongst their
rough and dark,
but stalwart,
companions.

home again

A more cheerful, but also biographical, pig poem:

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig,
but where, oh where, is my naughty pig?

pig cf long pig

In the midst of the current irrational panic buying and idiotic hoarding my pig broke into the feedbin and ate 2 weeks worth of food in one go. And I thought she was smarter than humans…

Sonnet for my pig

Written in defence of my pet pig (with apologies to WS) when other family members were advocating spit roasting her:

My piggy’s eyes are nothing like the sun.