Thursday, 24 November 2011

Arrowheads

T’was the night of Thanksgiving but I couldn’t sleep.
I tried counting backwards. I tried counting sheep.
The leftovers beckoned; the dark meat and white.
I fought the temptation with all of my might.
Tossing and turning with anticipation.
The thought of a snack became infatuation.
I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door,
And gazed at the fridge full of goodies galore.
I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes,
Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.
I felt myself swelling, so plump and so round.
‘til all of a sudden I rose off the ground.
I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky,
With a mouthful of pudding and handful of pie.
I managed to yell as I soared past the trees
“Happy eating to all. Pass the cranberries, please!
May your stuffing be tasty, may your turkey be plump.
May your potatoes and gravy have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious. May your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs!

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