Thanksgiving is here and hopefully you and yours have a happy day, regardless of whether you celebrate the holiday. Here is a nice little poem that I would like to dedicate to all of the brave turkeys who have sacrificed their lives to making Thanksgiving happen over the years.

The fourth Thursday of November

Is a day that many will remember.

It is a day that we sit down and give our thanks.

It is not not much, something that we don’t have to walk many planks.

For once the thanks it is give, it is time to eat.

It is one day that without shame, are dieting goals are not something that we meet.

Yet we owe it to one special bird.

And not the one that is the finger that is third.

Oh Turkey, Oh Turkey

So juicy and so perky.

Each and every year all you sacrifice your kind.

But we should really keep your value in mind.

We are going to eat you, and savor you.

Until we gain a pound or two.

I assure you its not malicious.

It is not our fault that you are so delicious.

Throughout the time you have been the poster child for this day.

Without your image, many would not give thanks, you help lead the way.

You allow things to be put in more perspective.

You don’t have to be a great detective.

The feast is at hand.

Time for many to bust their waste band.

It is time for that day that arrives.

For our taste buds to thrive.

Oh Turkey, Oh Turkey

We wonder, how well would you go with beef jerky.

The day is here, the moment is at hand.

For the juices to drip into your hands.

The sacrifice you made, so we can eat.

Our mouths water, as we sample your meat.

The main event of the meal.

Without you, we could not get the feel.

So as you fade out, you realize that your life does not end in vain.

With many side dishes, you are more than plain.

When we give props to the many things that we should have thanked.

Without you would be properly spanked.

We do remember the joy that you hold.

As we scramble to eat you before you get all cold.

Oh Turkey, Oh Turkey.

Some of you might come from Albuquerque

So can’t you see that we do not kill you out of any hate.

You just look so good on our plate.

As we stand back with family and friends.

You are the think that brings us together at that end.

In life you gobble and in death you get gobbled.

If we eat too much, we feel rather wobbled.

The time is here, we appreciate the sacrifice you have made.

It is something worthy of the thanks being paid.