Mansfield, Charlie

Herding Swine

1. Dangerous, them lot,
2. They root around and mark the ground,
3. And every sound they make’s
4. Both meaningless and clear.
5.  
6. Their familiar skin,
7. And the shape they’re in
8. Seem natural enough
9. But fear, a moment’s concentration loss
10. Could cost a finger, dear.
11.  
12. Their appetite’s eclectic,
13. Their unrestricted taste
14. Would take our prudish manners
15. And gobble them, in haste.
16.  
17. Yet, if in herds you pen them,
18. On ‘mast or meadow bloom
19. Their startling backs will gleam in rows
20. Against the gathering gloom.
21.  
22. Satisfied, their shapes will hold,
23. Eternally, they say,
24. The last, pink glowing memory
25. Of every sunny day.