A merry forest pig was he
he woke up very early and hunted until three
snorting, sniffing, the air he’s whiffing
never is he ruffled, only focused on his truffles
He goes rump rumping
grunt, grunting for truffle-O’s!
Wild he runs and trots the greeny forest
with a jolly jig he wriggles and digs
his cloven hooves moving dirt like lightening
hunt, hunting for truffle-O’s!
When at last he finds his gourmet morsels
a squeal is heard and fly the birds
clear from the forest, a happy hog
a squealing song of treasures found, his beloved