Twas the night before Thanksgiving


And all through my pad,

Not a creature was stirring,

Not even this lad

Then from the freezer

came a blood-curdling screech

The door flew open

A frozen bird landed within reach

From the cavity inside

Emanated a ghostly concern

That it didn’t want to die

Or in my oven burn

A frozen wing pointed my way

I assured the chilled fowl

That dead he was now,

And in the morrow

inside me he'd be

The spirit of the turkey,

then went to the light

My appetite whetted,

I called it a night