The Happy Little Pigs

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And seven mischievous boys.

Piglet eight was the smartest:

At school he learned to write

And count up to a hundred.

That little boy was bright!

The seventh was athletic:

Not one to rest, he’d rather

Race around on roller skates

And play ball with his father.

Piglet six was the boldest,

So brave he dared to poke

A wolf, then swim across the river

And clamber up an oak.

Piglet five was portentous,

Serious and urbane,

Giving advice to all he met

As he walked along with his cane.

Piglet four was the plumpest:

He ate and ate and ate.

He’d race to sit at the table

And ravage plate after plate.

Piglet three was the kindest:

He always helped his mother,

His father, and his sister,

And played with his baby brothers.

Piglet two was creative:

His poetry excelled.

He loved to look at the sky

And loved to draw pastels.

And then there was little Oinkletta

Who was her father’s pet,

Mischievous and stylish,

A beautiful piglette.

Whenever they go out to play,

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