Farmyard Antics 79 Poem by Phil Soar

Farmyard Antics 79



I strolled into a farmyard
On a lovely summer day
Grinning as I watched the goats
All playing in the hay
And as I strolled around the place
I couldn't help but think
Why do we say 'sweating like a pig
And need a drink? '
The pigs I know are sweatless
At least that's how it looks,
The only time they look too hot
Is as the bacon cooks

Thursday, June 16, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: farm,funny
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