Sense Sonnet - Pumper

 Wild Rose

We called her Rose, she lived hog wild

Near our farm in the bayou.

She looked as though she always smiled

When any of us happened to

See her be foraging around,

Looking for tasty roots to eat.

Her snout digging into the ground

Until she came across that treat.

Year after year we did see her.

She must have been old, but who knows.

Rose was a lively gal for sure.

One day we found her dead, sweet Rose.

We found Rose dead on Groundhog Day.

Her time was up, a downed hog gray.