Friday, November 6, 2015

Time for Holiday

Where's it this year Guffrey? Headed to the Alps?
Galapagos islands, I have a distant cousin there. Haven't seen him since he went flying off with a bunch of finches. 


November is a special time, 
But not for birds.

It might seem absurd,
But turkeys fear being lured,
And Cured,
And put in soup that must be stirred.

No, no. In November, Turkeys take flight,
And try very hard to stay out of sight.
So remember to stomp your feet with all your might,
So the Turkeys can fly off in their fright.
Better to let them run, then worry about them all night.

Some Turkeys go to Spain,
Some to France to frolic in the Seine,
Some to the far reaches of this plain,
Only to go insane,
And return home before the rain.

But none like Thanksgiving day,
It's a time to hide away.
Until the dinner is just an empty tray,
And they are again safe to play.

Maybe this year have some stew,
Or a pasta dish or two.
Just in case they're watching you.

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