Mouse-Pig Poem by Wayne Riley

I have a fat and furry friend
All pink and spotty black.
I grew him from some Camembert-
The smelly little Rat!

He is my very Mouse-Pig
For that's his very name,
Sometimes I call him Roger
Just like his steptwin Shane.

I like to give him all I can
Though humble poor are we.
I gave him a good character-
2 slices for his tea.

I love my little Mouse-Pig
I love him like a pet.
Sometimes I take him out for walks
And sometimes to the vet.

I dare not let him venture far
For fear he won't come back.
Last week he almost wandered off
Without his packymac.

‘You'll catch your death- or even worse! '
I warned in worried tone.
‘There's things out there what likes to eat
A Mouse-Pig far from home.

‘Don't worry Dad, ' he answered back
In usual piggy chatter.
‘If anyone should have a go
I'll cover them in batter! '

Then all at once, without a sound
He sang with all his might.
I've never heard a Mouse-Pig
I said in wondrous sight.

‘That's nothing Pa, ' he mouthed in tune,
And leaping to his trotters
Declared as he flew flying off-
I'll show those dirty rotters! '

‘Farewell my fat and furry friend, '
I bellied to the sky,
And turning one last time he squeaked,
‘I'm off to find my sty.'

And then he flew right out of sight,
As far as I could see,
And with a little shedding tear
I went in for my tea.