A Viking, Thanksgiving, Unwanted Guests

He raises his charmed-horn frost-cup filled to the brim with warrior-sweat of a thousands fallen wineberry Hail to the spoils and plunder Hail to burning friends and Thor’s thunder To ravens who gather the ones in wonder Eric’s the reds white-headed swan of blood and blood-bearded-gobbler may one give us free in all are Things and in our bowls meats of thanks-giving Carving the turkey with his sharp-rail-of beheading whacking a leg and then the other small talk and etiquette flew out the proverbial minds-eye But uncle Bob fit right in chasing his wine with gin