Twas the Night of Thanksgiving

Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep; I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep.

The leftovers beckoned--the dark meat and white, but I fought the temptation with all of my might.

Tossing and turning with anticipation, the thought of a snack became infatuation. So, I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door and gazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, till all of a sudden, I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling, floating 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!"

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