Showing posts with label Keats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Keats. Show all posts

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Hog Poetry!




Here it is readers, the latest Hog Poetry.

Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the hogs
That root round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The reticule illuminate, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be swine, or gloom o'ercast;
They always must be with us, and hogs die. 



Carry on,

LSP