Percival

 

Percival took pride in his appearance,

So he tolerated human interference.

He looked forward to his daily hosing,

After which, he enjoyed vainly posing.

Snout in the air to hide his chins,

Pride was always the proudest of his sins.

He would prance and strut around the sty,

With a devilish twinkle in his eye.

But he was in no hurry,

And mating made him worry,

About burning calories and losing weight.

After all, what was a roll in the mud,

When it took all day to look this good?

Sexercise would put him in a state.

 

Farmer Bob washed his boar every day,

To make him presentable to sows.

Bob wanted the ladies in the family way,

But Percy was a big girl’s blouse.

Showing no willing,

To deposit his shilling,

Didn’t do our hero any favour.

Parading his sass,

Couldn’t save Percy’s arse,

Now his rashers are smokey bacon flavour.