Oh thee! Of feathered frock Bird of paradise – thee are not For you wobble when you walk And gobble – gobble - while you talk Oh thee! Of stubby legs Neck hanging in a bag Of skin that sags and sags How can you face another day? Oh thee! With girth rotund With wings of nearly none Your flight is but a funny run Some chase you just for fun Oh thee! Of feathered frock Bird of paradise - thee are not As you lie on chopping block Ending up in cooking pot. But come Thanksgiving Day- Everyone will gladly say You are by far - the finest bird That God has ever made. Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada