Who’s never seen pigs flying North,
At Summer’s end for all their worth?
The lead pig stretching out his girth,
To safely reach their Winter’s berth.
For piggies comfy in their sty,
must hear questions one through five.
The answers given are all jive,
The lastest piggy won’t survive.
“Who ate roast beef, who stayed home?”
“Who went to market, who had none?”
“And who went weeing to their home?”
Are matters better left alone!
So piggies from the hinterland,
For dignity escape the hand,
That pops them by disjointing band;
And fly away where pulling’s banned!