Last Little Piggy Goes To Market

Last Little Piggy Goes To Market

Judy Dykstra-Brown

Flores

 

I am the littlest piggy, and when I commenced to roam,
why did I cry “Wee, wee, wee!” all the long way home?
My sibling went to market and I followed along.
The path was rough and winding––as steep as it was long.

My little legs were tired, yet I followed close behind.
I wondered if he knew that I was following if he’d mind.
My family never let me go hardly anywhere,
so market piqued my interest. I wondered what was there.

I asked my other siblings if they wouldn’t like to try it,
but one was into his roast beef, the other on a diet.
She said she would be tempted by the pastries and the candy,
and this was what convinced me that this market was a dandy.

When we crested the last hill and passed the final bend,
the market spread out for so far, I couldn’t see its end.
Booth after booth was set up to sell its chosen fare.
My head swung fast from side to side to see all that was there.

Buttons, bolsters, bumbershoots and books with songs or riddles.
Little dainty donuts with whipped cream in their middles.
TinkerToys and rubber balls and cricket bats and kites.
My eyes could not keep up with all these delicious sights.

I lost sight of my brother, but I didn’t care.
I was too busy ogling all this varied fare.
My tummy started rumbling. Ice cream, cakes and pies.
I wished that I could put my mouth where I had put my eyes.

But then I stopped to look at a very curious rig
and a big sign that said “Barbecue—what? Barbecue pig??
Folks stood around with sandwiches filled with dripping meat
and then I saw another sign that said “Pickled Pig’s Feet!”

My pig’s feet took me out of there as fast as I could joggle.
I didn’t stop for donuts. I didn’t stop to ogle.
I scurried for my own safe yard, squealing “Wee, wee, wee!”
I’ve sought enough adventure. Home is enough for me!!!

 

Ojo Del Lago
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