Turkey Day Ballad
Myrtle is just so grandiose,
(Spends big money on expandy-hose)
So it's a family tradition that Myrtle cooks,
The family fancy feast from the best cookbooks.
She's strange but wears a heart of gratitude,
Likes knowin' about her kinfolks' attitude;
She truly believes her very own press,
Before the food she bought a pea purple dress.
Grandpa can't wait for his Myrtle's big dinner.
In his old bald head, she's his life's one winner.
She's kept him well fed in so many ways,
Why not this day of all turkey days?
Through his window he watches for the first winter snow,
When he and Myrtle will roll in their throw;
Clint and Bobby and their own little cuties
Will park by the fire, all their babies in bootees.
You'll smell the old gobbler and sage in the dressing;
Grandpa'll be called on to say a sweet blessing.
He'll drink up the sauce, eat the cranberry kind, too.
They'll all stuff and laugh ‘til their faces turn blue.
While later in the kitchen the dishes get washed,
The animals purr and bark; the pigs get slopped.
Grandpa's snores embarrass poor Myrtle,
So she sneaks upstairs and comes out of her girdle.
So all in all you could safely say
Grandpa and his progeny had plenty come their way
From the day when pilgrims bring gravy boats came,
Until 2007 when they're riding the gravy train.
By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
She looks out the window
And sees them coming up the lane,
Four car-loads of family:
Aunts, uncles, cousins.
All coming for Thanksgiving dinner,
And a chance to be together again.
The old, two-story house
With its tin roof and add-on rooms
Will be noisy all day...
Because it always is when family comes.
Mama has been in the kitchen all week, baking,
And Papa has kept a fire going in the fireplace.
Uncle Henry will ask Mama
If she made her famous smashed sweet-potatoes...
Because he always does,
And grandpa will give his yearly toast,
Ending with, 'It's a family tradition."
When no one is looking
Aunt Beck will rearrange the place cards...
Because she always does,
And Mama will smile because Mama isn't one to complain.
Last week Papa bought fresh cranberries for Mama's relish,
But held some back to string for the Christmas tree.
Grandma will comment on
How much each of the cousins has grown...
Because she always does.
Papa's hard cider will be gone before noontime...
Because it always is,
And Mama will be hoping that someone will notice
Her needlepoint sampler that says 'Gratitude'.
The gravy boat can't help but be noticed
Because it's new.
Grandpa drank too much hard cider last year
And broke the old one.
The first car is right now coming through the gate,
And here come the others...
The old mantle clock slowly chimes the hour,
And the memories fade....
By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)
"Where's Aunt Peggy's Gravy Boat?"
I yelled across the table.
The screeching starts to hurt my throat,
"Move it! As soon as you are able!"
I know I have a poor attitude.
For this thanksgiving feast.
My relatives have no gratitude,
They swarm from West to East.
As I pass by the window,
I hear a mighty roar!
Good Lord, Let my heartbeat slow,
Here comes 20 more!
My kitchen's packed from front to back,
Cousins are a-bounding.
My nerves are shot, I can't keep track.
A headache is really pounding!
Now I can't find the cranberries!
Fourteen cans I had right here.
One of those ex-wives of Terry's
Probably traded it for beer.
"It's a family tradition" They all said.
"Nervous Breakdown this time of year."
I've got to get these hogs all fed,
Then swill them down with beer.
Grandpa was the only one,
Who bothered to say "Thank You"...
But after all was said and done,
I was happy it was through!
By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)