the golden age on Earth again
when figs are grown on thistles
and pigs betailed with whistles and
wearing silken bristles
live ever in clover, and crows fly over
delivering milk at every door
and justice never is heard to snore
and every assassin is made a ghost
and howling, is cast into Baltimost!
-Polydore Smith
They love to be in the muck don't they. How many altogether, or is it just those two. Do they have names too? I gave your blog to the SBD ladies some of whom are interested in your adventure. Off to sing. Love Momma sow
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