Escher's Leaves

When Jack Prelutsky was growing up he had a teacher who hated poetry. She was expected to recite a poem to her class at least once a week. He said she would, "pick a boring poem from a boring book and read it in a boring voice, looking bored while doing it." As an adult Jack worked at odd jobs including cabbie, moving man, busboy, potter, woodworker, and door-to-door salesman. He liked to draw animals. His friends convinced him to send his art to a publisher. As an afterthought he scribbled a poem on each before sending them off. He was amazed when they wanted his work; not the drawings that took six months, but the poems which took two hours. This one is on display at my local grocer's, surrounded by second graders' illustrations:

If turkeys thought, they'd run away a week before Thanksgiving Day.

But turkeys can't anticipate, and so there's turkey on my plate!
Happy Thanksgiving Day!