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Poem

I have a fat and furry friend
All pink and spotty black.
I grew him from some Camembert-
The smelly little Rat!

He is my very Mouse-Pig
For that’s his very name, 
Sometimes I call him Roger 
Just like his steptwin Shane. 

I like to give him all I can
Though humble poor are we.
I gave him a good character- 
2 slices for his tea. 

I love my little Mouse-Pig 
I love him like a pet. 
Sometimes I take him out for walks 
And sometimes to the vet.

I dare not let him venture far 
For fear he won’t come back. 
Last week he almost wandered off 
Without his packymac. 

‘You’ll catch your death- or even worse!’ 
I warned in worried tone. 
‘There’s things out there what likes to eat 
A Mouse-Pig far from home. 

‘Don’t worry Dad,’ he answered back 
In usual piggy chatter. 
‘If anyone should have a go 
I’ll cover them in batter!’ 

Then all at once, without a sound 
He sang with all his might. 
I’ve never heard a Mouse-Pig 
I said in wondrous sight.

‘That’s nothing Pa,’ he mouthed in tune, 
And leaping to his trotters
Declared as he flew flying off-
I’ll show those dirty rotters!’

‘Farewell my fat and furry friend,’
I bellied to the sky,
And turning one last time he squeaked,
‘I’m off to find my sty.’

And then he flew right out of sight, 
As far as I could see, 
And with a little shedding tear 
I went in for my tea.

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