Pigs might

(based on suggestions from @SeanMElliott, @matchtrick, @GretasTARDIS and @msmisrule)

When chocolate mouse got wings

sugar pig was lonely. But

he floated down in his patty pan

and ogled the wonder of the view

The pretty raindrops! A near miss

for our sweet pig becomes a

metaphor for anyone made of

sugar. Look out, sucrose folk.

If sugar pig could float out now

He’d envy that drop in the well of

his piglethood, see his

cupcake wrapper wilt into a

floppy fringe. His bacon would

be chopped up into Hamlets

His sugar would glow with

radioactivity instead of open-chains.

When chocolate mouse became a bat

polypoid pig had to wait

on the shelf. They tell stories, sing songs

Sometimes they are you and me.

Our pink friend should go out in a grunter

rustle up some feathers

wing himself out of ornamental status

find out if sugar pigs might fly.

_________________________________________

Today's poem is based on suggestions from four peeps:

• @seanmelliott: "(singing) You and me and radioactivity..."
• @seanmelliott: "polypoid"
• @matchtrick: "Near misses. Wells. Wonders. Floppy fringes. Envy."
• @GretasTARDIS: "candy in the shape of pigs!"
• @msmisrule: "hamlet"

When I was little I loved Irina Hale's 'The Chocolate Mouse and the Sugar Pig, and How They Ran Away to Escape Being Eaten'. But I always felt it was unfair that the sugar pig had to stay on the shelf and wait for the chocolate mouse to visit each year. Why shouldn't he be allowed to be an Emily Rodda style pig instead?