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The Night of Thanksgiving


Ann

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TWAS THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING, BUT I JUST COULDN'T SLEEP

I TRIED COUNTING BACKWARDS, I TRIED COUNTING SHEEP.

THE LEFTOVERS BECKONED - THE DARK MEAT AND WHITE

BUT I FOUGHT THE TEMPTATION WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT

TOSSING AND TURNING WITH ANTICIPATION

THE THOUGHT OF A SNACK BECAME INFATUATION.

SO, 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 A HANDFUL OF PIE.

BUT, 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 'N GRAVY HAVE NARY A LUMP.

MAY YOUR YAMS BE DELICIOUS, MAY YOUR PIES TAKE THE PRIZE,

MAY YOUR THANKSGIVING DINNER STAY OFF OF YOUR THIGHS.

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