In honor of the Thanksgiving celebration, I have posted a poem from my book, Tales with a Twist & Tales Totally Twisted. I hope you enjoy this little excerpt.
The Pride of the Table
By: Michele L. Hinton
Don’t I look fine, all golden brown,
I’m the best turkey, you’ll see around.
I’m juicy and savory,
Don’t need no gravy.
I’m the pride of the table,
Stuffed by Aunt Mabel.
Then popped in the oven,
For you to be lovin’.
See those potatoes, they’ve got nothin’ on me,
They’ll be leftovers, just wait and see.
And look over there, I laugh at the ham,
I’m so lovely, I make him look like spam.
The broccoli casserole over there,
Don’t make me swear!
With all that fattening cheese,
And you dieting! Pl-ease!
But the cornbread stuffing,
You’ve got to be bluffing.
He thinks he’s all that, but he’s just crumbled up bread,
Thanksgiving has really, just gone to his head.
Then there’s Miss Diva, the cranberry sauce.
If she’s not eaten, it’s nobody’s loss.
The yams hide under a marshmallow cloud,
Like they were dead, buried in a white shroud.
The corn and tomatoes, just sit there in bowls,
Their as boring as the dinner rolls.
The pumpkin pie thinks, he’s the crowning glory,
And the pecan pie, that another story.
So what can I say, it all about me!
If I wasn’t there, what would turkey day be?
This ain’t no boast, what I say is true,
Thanksgiving Day turkey, that’s me – for you!
“If you would, Aunt Mabel, please pass the potatoes.”
“George, I’ll have the corn and the tomatoes.”
“The stuffing, Mom, is absolutely great.”
“Suzie, my dear, the broccoli’s first rate.”
“Sarah, that ham is just divine!”
“My secret is to glaze it with wine.”
“Pass me the stuffing, Uncle Lee.”
“Hey! Don’t take it all, save some for me!”
“Fresh hot rolls are coming right up.”
“You want one, Davy?” the boy said, “Yup!”
“I’ll take the yams that grandma made.”
“Just love those cranberries, they were homemade.”
“What about turkey, can I pass you’ll any?”
“No, I’m full. Maybe later, Aunt Jenny.”
“None for me, I’m saving room for pie.”
“If I eat another bite, I think I’ll just die!”
The dinner was over, and there sat the turkey,
All of his boasting made him sound jerky.
The side dishes laugh, and sang their own ballad,
Of how the turkey, would become a salad!