Children’s Pig Poems, Limericks and Nursery Rhymes
Piggy Wig (thumb) and Piggy Wee (other thumb)
Hungry pigs as pigs could be.
For their dinner had to wait,
Down behind the garden gate. (Gate made of fingers)
Piggy Wig and Piggy Wee (wiggle thumbs)
Climbed the barnyard gate to see. (thumbs through fingers)
Peeking through the gate so high,
But no dinner could they spy.
Piggy Wig and Piggy Wee got down,
Sad as pigs could be.
But the gate soon opened wide
And they scampered forth outside. (hands swing apart, thumbs run in)
Piggy Wig and Piggy Wee,
Piggy Wig and Piggy Wee,
Greedy pigs as pigs could be.
For their dinner ran pell mell.
And in the trough both piggies fell.
Two mother pigs lived in a pen, (thumbs)
Each had four babies and that made ten. (fingers of both hands)
These four babies were black and white. (fingers of one hand)
These four babies were black as night. (fingers of the other hand)
All eight babies loved to play. (wiggle fingers)
And they rolled and they rolled in the mud all day. (roll hands)
Ten little pigs…(five little ducks went out to play)
Ten little pigs rolled in the mud-
Squishy, squashy, felt so good.
The farmer took one piggy out.
“Oink, Oink, oink” the pig did shout!
Continue with nine, eight, seven etc..
No little pigs rolled in the mud
They all looked so clean and good.
The farmer turned his back and then,
Those pigs rolled in the mud again.
In Praise of a Pig
A pig is a jolly companion,
Boar, sow, barrow, or gilt —
A pig is a pal, who’ll boost your morale,
Though mountains may topple and tilt.
When they’ve blackballed, bamboozled, and burned you,
When they’ve turned on you, Tory and Whig,
Though you may be thrown over by Tabby and Rover,
You’ll never go wrong with a pig, a pig,
You’ll never go wrong with a pig!
Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow
The Pig, if I am not mistaken,
Gives us ham and pork and Bacon.
Let others think his heart is big,
I think it stupid of the Pig.
There was a young pig whose delight
Was to follow the moths in their flight.
He entrapped them in nets,
Then admired his pets
As they danced on the ceiling at night.
There once was a piglet named Bob
Who spent all of his days on a log.
He sat there all day
While his friends went to play
‘Til one day he was lost in the fog.
There was a young pig who, in bed,
Nightly slumbered with eggs on his head.
When the sun at its rise
Made him open his eyes
He enjoyed them for breakfast in bed.
There was a young pig from Racine
Whose botanical interests were keen.
He planted a sock
In a bright window box,
Where it blossomed and sprouted a bean.
There was a poor pig on the street,
In the dustbin found tidbits to eat,
Though his hot garbage stew,
Smelled exactly like glue,
He declared that its taste was a treat.
There was a sad pig with a tail
Not curly, but straight as a nail.
So he ate simply oodles
Of pretzels and noodles,
Which put a fine twist to his tail.
Barber, barber, shave a pig;
How many hairs will make a wig?
“Four and twenty, that’s enough.”
Give the poor barber a pinch of snuff.
The sow came in with the saddle;
The little pig rock’d the cradle;
The dish jump’d up on the table,
To see the pot swallow the ladle.
The spit that stood behind the door,
Threw the pudding-stick on the floor;
Oh! said the gridiron, can’t you agree?
I’m the head constable, bring them to me.
A long-tailed pig, or a short-tailed pig,
Or a pig without a tail;
A sow pig, or a boar pig,
Or a pig with a curly tail.
Upon my word and honour,
As I was going to Bonner,
I met a pig,
Without a wig,
Upon my word and honour.
Tom, Tom, the piper’s son,
Stole a pig, and away he run!
The pig was eat, and Tom was beat,
And Tom went roaring down the street.