'Twas the night of Thanksgiving, I just couldn't sleep. I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep.
The leftovers beckoned, The dark meat and white, But I fought off temptation With all of my might.
Tossing and turning, with great anticipation, The thought of a snack became infatuation. So I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door, And glazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore. Gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, Pickles & carrots, beans and tomatoes.
I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, Until all of a sudden, I rose off the ground. I crashed through the ceiling, into the sky, With a mouthful of pudding, and a handful of pie. But I managed to yell, as I soared past the trees, Happy eating to all...pass the cranberries, please.
May your stuffing be tasty, May your turkey be plump. May your taters and gravy have nary a lump. May your yams be delicious. May your pies take the prize, May your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs.