BOH Happenings

A Little Green Pig with a grin so wide, has tucked himself where secrets like to hide. He waits where breezes softly drift and play, watching quiet moments pass the day. No flashy signs will point you where to roam, just trust your feet to lead you close to home. If luck is smiling, you’ll be filled with glee. The clever Little Pig is waiting patiently.

On a slope that climbs up high, where the fenceposts meet the sky, search the roots beneath the tree, where the blades grow tall and free. A standard swine is pink and loud, but this Little Green Pig avoids the crowd. Camouflaged in shades of jade, it rests within the grassy shade.

Escape the midway where the crowds would all throng. Ascend where the quiet outlasts the loud song. A Little Green Piggy crawls by old trails concealed I watch over acres of carnival fields. Where the summit meets shadow, I curl up my tail, A Little Green Piggy just off the beaten trail.

A Little Green Pig found a place to stay, where echoes drift at close of day. He grins in silence, snug from sight, waiting there from morn until night. Stone and shadow share the air, many pass but none will stare. Look with care where paths divide, you may find where secrets hide.

A Little Green Pig seeks quiet delight, where downtown hums from morning to night. Between two neighbors he slips from view, where weathered corners hide morning dew. Near weathered treasures left one by one, he smiles away from the midday sun. If you wander slowly and keep eyes low, a tiny green friend may steal the show.

A Little Green Pig found a snug little place, where Broadway’s bustle slows its pace. Between two walls he stays out of sight, hidden from most in the soft daylight. Toward the back where forgotten things sleep, old piles and treasures their quiet watch keep. Follow the lane where few folks linger long, and you may find him before he’s gone.

A Little Green Pig found a quiet place to stay, where busy folks pass by throughout the day. He rests where sturdy things are built to roam yet tucked away enough to make a secret home. Listen for echoes where hard work’s the theme, though nothing’s quite as obvious as it may seem. Search with sharp eyes, but don’t rush through the lot. The sneaky Little Green Pig hopes he won’t be caught!

The four-legged riders of dust are now still, conquered by blades on a motionless hill. No longer chasing the wind or the track, they carry the weight of the wild on their back. A clover-hued traveler sits in the shade, where rubber and iron begin to degrade. Look close at the floor where  the giants decay, to find this Little Green Pig that has wandered astray!

The Little Green Piggy is hiding where mountains of rubbish are hidden from sight, through the stalks in the dimming twilight. Not locked in the skip where the remnants are cast but choked by the weeds growing thick and so fast. He mimics the brush with his emerald hue, a small snout in hiding, just waiting for you.