Oh turkey, how I love thee
But only once a year
Can I endure the hours it takes
For you to bake and sear.
I love thee in the morning
As I stuff thy rear with bread.
I love thee in the evening
When everyone’s been fed.
I love thee most the next day
When I am tired still.
You provide a hearty meal again
No more birds to kill…till…
Next year I bid thee farewell
And ask only one thing:
Come cooked and stuffed if you can
So I don’t have to sing
The song, NOT YET! NOT YET!
Stop asking when the bird is done
Go jump into the pumpkin pie
Before I reload my gun
And shoot the bird right out of town
And run back to my childhood days
When Mom did not bake a Tom,
My spicy curry chicken phase.
I cannot tell a lie, I can’t
When all the kids would rant and rave
About their turkey dinner day
Oh Tom, all I could do was crave.
Another year, another bird
Now I know you and I’m good.
Anyone want to cook for me?
Would eat-out this year If I could.
But alas my love for you holds true
I will bake thee until the stick pops up
And make a toast and say my thanks
To God who kindly fills my cup!