cheryl davis miller

Rookie - 12 Points (2/26/57 / America)

The Three Pigs - Poem by cheryl davis miller

This is the story of three little pigs.
Not that old-time fable from the past
A modern-day saga of the three pigs.
Here is a quick run down of the cast

Mother was too wise to ever give heed;
she instructed she did not receive.
Sonny spat upon everyone else and
would seek out all the young to deceive.

Miss Pris the third in this pig trilogy;
thought that she was the fairest by far.
She would preen and pose in the looking-glass;
acted like she was a movie star.

They tossed their manure everywhere they went
tried to make everyone smell as them.
Rooted and snorted and destroyed much till;
it all came home to roost; it was grim.

They found out to late there's a big bad wolf;
and he loves to catch vain little pigs.
Which he captures at will for his dinner;
for he loves to eat self-serving prigs.

See, their house it was built on shifting sand
and they mocked those built upon the Rock.
One day the wolf came and blew on their house,
then at last they began to take stock.

Maybe they should not have been quite so quick,
to think they were some elitist pigs.
Or maybe they should have built on the Rock;
and built the house out of more than twigs.

c.d.m.12/20/13


Poet's Notes about The Poem

no disrespect to piggery.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 22, 2013



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