Pig Poems

Table of Contents

1. A Story of Our Runt

   by Ed. Blair

   
   

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   Once we owned a little pig,
   All it did was grunt, grunt,
   Small, because he wasn't big,
   And we called him Runt, Runt.
   Born the wrong time of the moon
   'Cause he died so very soon.
   

   When we fed the little pigs,
   They would come right fast, fast,
   Little Runt who wasn't big
   Always got there last, last.
   And the others that were tall
   Crowded him and got it all.
   

   Then we lifted him outside,
   Little piggy Runt, Runt,
   Fed him till he stuck out wide,
   Yet he'd only grunt, grunt.
   For it seemed he couldn't grow
   Though he ate and swelled up so.
   

   Other little piggies' tails
   Would curl o'er their backs, backs,
   But this little piggie'e tail
   Looked more like a tack, tack.
   Or a little wooden peg
   Hung straight down between his legs.
   

   When we took the feed one morn
   To our little Runt, Runt,
   Saw at once he looked forlorn
   For he couldn't grunt, grunt.
   And he died then very soon,
   Born the wrong time of the moon.
   

2. The Cow and The Pig and The Hen

   by A. H. Upham

   
   

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   The farmer smiled as he passed them by—
   The cow and the pig and the hen;
   For the price of wheat had gone sky-high,
   And the cow and the pig and the hen
   They ate up grain he could sell at the mill,
   They needed his care when nights were chill,
   He swore of them all he'd had his fill—
   The cow and the pig and the hen.
   

   These barnyard cattle had had their day,
   The cow and the pig and the hen.
   He could get thirty bones for a ton of hay—
   No need for the cow or the hen.
   He never would milk another cow,
   He hated the sight of a grunting sow,
   And raising chickens was work for the frau,
   Good-bye to the cow and the hen.
   

   They gave no heed to his jeer or frown,
   The cow and the pig and the hen,
   Whatever goes up, said they, comes down,
   The wise old cow and the hen.
   The hen laid eggs the winter thru,
   The cow gave milk and the piggy grew,
   But hay dropped down from thirty to two—
   Oh, the cow and the pig and the hen!
   

   Now he sits and sighs, as he counts the cost,
   For the cow and the pig and the hen.
   He almost cries for the milk he's lost,
   The cow and the pig and the hen.
   He'd tend them gladly in mud and rain,
   And scrap his acres of hay and grain,
   If he only could buy them back again,
   The cow and the pig and the hen.
   

3. This Little Piggy

   by Anonymous

   This little piggy went to the market,
   This little piggy stayed home,
   This little piggy had roast beef,
   This little piggy had none,
   And this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home.
   

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