A Christmas poem for you, my friends. Compliments of the season to you all.
A sequel to the story of ‘The
Three Little Pigs’
(The piggies think the wolf has been killed by landing in the hotpot bubbling away on their hearth. However ...)
A
family of pigs, brothers three,
Were
leaping around, Christmas Eve.
The
wolf had been caught (or so they had thought).
From
his huff and his puff, they were free.
Relieved
at the end of their scare
They
danced round the hearth, unaware
That
in the hotpot was a wolf who was not
Fully
cooked, but just medium rare.
As
they went off to bed, closed the door,
From
the pot there protruded a paw
Though
more warm than he’d like, he’d not give up the fight
A
poor sign for the porcine, for sure.
He’d
wait until midnight , then
soon,
He
planned by the light of the moon
To
climb out of that pot, give those piggies a shock
And
be gorging on trotters by noon .
But
all of a sudden, his light
Was
blocked out by a terrible sight.
A
HUGE man with a beard down the chimney appeared.
Wolfie
peed in the gravy with fright.
‘Ho
ho ho,’ said the man, with such CHEER
That
the wolf yelped (a coward, I fear)
‘I
thought you got cooked at the end of the book.’
‘Not
quite.’ Wolfie brushed off a tear.
The
piggies awoke with a start.
Terror
clutching at each little heart.
They
crept into the room and peered through the gloom
(And
here is the heartwarming part.)
Not
believing their own piggy eyes
They
stared at the scene in surprise.
The
wolf, there with Santa, engaging in banter
And
eating their home-made mince pies.
‘Oh,
there you all are!’ Santa said.
‘I’m
afraid it’s bad news. He’s not dead.
But
now we’re all here, it’s the season of cheer
So
why don’t we make friends instead?’
They
shook trotters and paws, and drank wine.
Prematurely
they sang Auld Lang Syne.
And
the wolf, somewhat shaken, said he’d been mistaken
And
would chase little lambsies next time.
![]() |
| Wolfie has learned his lesson. Until, that is, he meets a little girl in the wood dressed in red ..... |

I love your takeoffs on fairy tales!!
ReplyDeleteThanks, fishducky. It's one of my favourite things to do.
DeleteEven the wolf gets fed... now that's the true spirit of Christmas.
ReplyDeleteNo one can call ME Scrooge.
DeleteI have sometimes wondered what's in stockpots . I must admit wolf's pee hadn't occurred to me ...
ReplyDeleteNo? You are shopping in the WRONG places!
DeleteBravo ! Merry Christmas !
ReplyDeleteThanks, badpenny. You too.
DeleteA heartwarming ending AND internal rhymes. My favourites! Well done, Fran. And Happy Christmas.
ReplyDeleteThanks! Happy Christmas to you and yours, too, Isabelle. x
DeleteIn my humble opinion you always improve on these stories and make them much more interesting than I remember.
ReplyDeleteI like your humble opinion very much, Stephen.
DeleteThat's so good that I'm jealous. I wish I had written it.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
You win the Gratifying Comment of the Day Award. Happy Christmas!
DeleteExcellent stuff, Fran! A very Merry Christmas to you and yours, from me and mine.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Martin. And to you, too. Here's to much more poeming in the New Year from both of us.
DeleteRaw talent there, Fran!
ReplyDeleteHappy Christmas and thank you for all the class laughs this year.
Anna May x
Raw talent there, Fran!
ReplyDeleteHappy Christmas and thank you for all the class laughs this year.
Anna May x
Happy Christmas to you, too, Anna. And thanks.
Delete