Farmyard Antics 22 Poem by Phil Soar

I strolled into a farmyard
At the dawn of a new day
The chickens and the many pigs
Had lots of things to say
Announcing my arrival
Was like a howling dirge
Starting as a gentle cluck
And building to a surge
And once the farmer spotted me
He chased me through the muck
I fell and was face down in it
And became rather stuck
He picked me up and led me off
Without a 'by your leave'
I went back home with a dirty face
And pig shit on my sleeve