Seven newborn piglets
Clambered greedily to suck,
Six succeeding in their mission
While the runt was out of luck.
As their mother lay, exhausted,
All her babes knew what to do
Though the smallest was prevented,
By his sibs, in getting through.
We, the visitors, felt helpless
And were sounding the alarm,
But the workers weren't bothered
At the Quiet Valley Farm.
For, though "Charlotte's Web" thoughts hovered,
We hoped all would be okay
Since the farmers seemed quite trusting,
Letting Nature lead the way.
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