The Three Pigs - A Pantomime Poem by Mary Champion

A fat old sow had three grown sons
who lazed about all day,
hardly ever off their bums,
she said, 'Please go away.
I've had enough! ' she lectured them
and panicked looks were seen
on three young, idle piggy men,
as Mum let off her steam.

With curly tales between their legs,
they packed their bags and left.
For all she could have wrung their necks,
Mum felt a bit bereft.
They trundled slowly down the lane,
for none had made a plan.
They looked for shelter, all in vain,
until they met a man -
a man who bore a load of straw
and said it was for sale.
The youngest, daftest, homeless boar,
said, 'Sell me every bale! '

No sooner was it said than done,
a rustic house was raised -
a cosy nest of straw, for one -
complete and double-glazed.
His brothers left and carried on
the road to god knows where,
and soon they met another man
with piles of logs to spare.

 
The middle pig said 'Just the thing
I need to make my sty -
a cabin fit to house a king,
is what I'll occupy.
A sturdy edifice appeared
amidst the forest trees,
there, in a small patch he had cleared,
the piggy took his ease.

The eldest pig went on alone,
‘til he reached B & Q,
he said ' of course, I should have known'
they'll tell me what to do.'
The man he asked, said 'Bricks, of course,
would be the best to choose.
There's nothing else I would endorse,
if I was in your shoes.'

The brick house took a bit more time
than straw or logs of wood,
but he was pleased with his design
and everything looked good.
At last the building was complete
and all the locks secured.
The eldest piggy took his seat,
now he could rest assured.

But in the land of rules and regs,
where spies report all sins,
the Big Bad Wolf received a text -
he stroked his double chins.
'A house that's built of straw! ' he cried,
'I never can permit.
A fire risk that, they will be fried,
I'll put an end to it.'
 
The unsuspecting piggy wig,
lay in his house of straw,
then came the Wolf all fierce and big,
said, 'It's against the law.
The Fire Brigade have said you must
demolish it at once.'
The pig then tried to make a fuss,
but all his groans and grunts,
were nowt but water off a duck
the Wolf would not be moved,
he said 'I do not give a f**k,
this case can't be reviewed.'

The youngest pig began to bawl
but it was all in vain.
The Big, Bad Wolf from County Hall,
would never share his pain.

Next day, the Big Wolf had a mail -
another planning row,
said, 'Please do something without fail,
they've built on green-belt, now.'
Officialdom descended on,
the piggy in the woods,
said, 'Tear this cabin down - begone -
and pack up all your goods.'

The pig demurred, the pig discussed
but no one paid him heed.
'So you'll be homeless, we're not fussed,
you won't make our hearts bleed.'

He joined his brother on the road
made for the house of brick,
their eldest bro' said, ' I'll be blowed!
It really makes you sick.'
They settled in, all safe and sound
and spent a peaceful night.
Firm walls of brick stood all around,
the future now looked bright.
A few weeks passed, without event
then hearts were made to sink,
the Big Bad Wolf, a letter sent.
The letter raised a stink.
The letter said, 'we much regret…'
of course, that was a lie,
it really meant' don't get upset,
this order's from on high.
Your house is standing in the way
of something we must do,
A CPO, here's what we'll pay.
Make way for HS2! '

The piggies didn't have much choice,
though compensation fell
far short; they felt they had no voice.
They'd not been treated well.

With caps in hands, they went to find,
if Mum would take them back.
At least they had some cash this time,
Mum would approve of that.
She welcomed them with open arms,
said 'How I've missed by boys.
I'll have you back, I have no qualms,
my dears, I'm overjoyed.'
 
A month or two along line,
the Big, Bad Wolf was told
to write a letter to the swine,
that made their blood run cold.
'The airport must expand, ' it said
the choice is very clear,
another runway goes ahead -
it's coming right through here.'