.3. Troughing It Poem by David Threadgold
.3. Troughing It
My granddad had a pigsty
At the bottom of his plot
He saves up veg and tatty peels
A copper boil’s the lot
He cooled them in a bucket
A smell it made you cough
Then took them to the pigsty
Where he tipped them in a trough
Pigs thought it smelled delicious
Ran forward with a snort
Granddad didn’t hang about
In case he should get caught
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
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4/23/2024 3:25:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
