Autumn Turkey
crossed snows path the winter blows near
the turkey time is finally here
holiday goods shopping a plenty
people a bussling
cities so hefty
people run to buy last minute goods
for parties, filled with fun and love
no more merry could we be,
on this autumn night you see
crossed the mountains and over the lake
to uncle nates house right on the
drake
turkeys seasoned with love and care
uncle nate's house will never lay bare
for every season there will be,
a gigantic party wait till you see
bustling relatives all up in a bunch
tired and cranky but happilly
filled with lunch
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray tonight to rest in peace,
A bloodied eve of Christmas,
The house a totaled mess,
Now you lie there,
Tangled bloody hair,
Rose peddles coated our bed,
What was going on in your head?
You promised me a day to remember,
A day to stick with forever and ever,
Now she lays with you on our floor,
Did you really love her so much more,
Were you truly that much of a man,
That you had to go crush my heart in your hand,
Jolly Old Saint Nicholas sent you his misses,
So you could have your holly jolly Christmas,
Over the river, to our comfy cabin,
You said it was her seductive grin,
As I walked down the stairs shaking in anger,
'I... I loved you! How could you! Traitor... Traitor!'
My voice echoed through the house one last time,
A gun shot followed, ending in a bloodied silent night.
Again, 'tis that glorious season of the year,
For sharin' love and spreadin' holiday cheer!
Time for my dear spouse to begin her ever-lovin',
Bakin' of toothsome delicacies in her trusty oven!
Some of Grandma's recipes are used in this enterprise,
'Specially the one for her scrumptious pecan pies!
She bakes a fruit cake of which I'll taste just a tittle,
But I'll sure sink my choppers into lots of peanut brittle!
An elaborate Victorian gingerbread house is created,
And cakes so soaked in rum I'll surely be inebriated!
There are spritz cookies of every size and shape.
Calories abound in the penuche over which I go ape!
A Yule tradition is a cookie call snickerdoodles.
Of these and pralines I can eat oodles and oodles!
Aromas waftin' about the house nearly drive me daffy,
As she makes cookies, walnut fudge and molasses taffy!
I'm allowed the bliss of the pots and pans to scrape,
But beyond that from the kitchen I must escape!
To sample all that stuff my palate is just itchin',
But I'm unceremoniously invited out of the kitchen!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
There once was a Santa from Nome.
From house to house he did roam,
When done he stopped for a beer
And some friendly Holiday cheer.
Alas…… he couldn’t find his way home.
thank you Carolyn..lets see what the chef can come up with...
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