Turkey Day: A Humor Poem




It’s that time of year again,
When we all expect to gain, my friend
I’m not just talking about the love
Or the blessings from above
I’m talking now about my waist
The inches that I owe to tastes.
Each year we expect to gain
A pound—five, we usually retain
And each year, I like to say
“I’m going to have self-control today.
No matter the moistness of the turkey
Or the sweetness of the pie
I will eat the right amount of calories”
But it’s a lie.

Not on purpose, may I remind
It’s the smells the work upon my mind
The cranberry sauce and special spice
The well-cooked meat, so plump. So nice!
Don’t get me started on the yams
Or the honey-glazed, sauce-dripping ham!
 Creamy gravy flowing on mashed potatoes!
And then those buttery, glistening rolls!
Pasta salad, fruit salad, what’s that pink stuff?
Jello salad, pudding salad. Carrying two plates is rough.
That jam’s homemade? I could tell!
I can see my tummy swell.
Green beans are genuinely good for you.
Though caked in butter, it’s still true!
The stuffing is such a beautiful sight!
I can’t fit in another bite.
And then they come: the pies.
Pumpkin, blackberry, buttermilk and cherry
Blueberry, apple, and even strawberry!
Add some whipped cream on top.
At this point, it’s a sin to stop.
And thus it begins the month-long feasts!
All baking and sharing cookies and treats.
But it’s okay, I say with a grin.
Next year, I’ll start going to the gym.


©  Jill Burgoyne

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

On a dark and quiet night...

Image
When I think of the scariest experiences in my life, they don’t usually include anything we acknowledge at Halloween. A loved one is diagnosed with an incurable disease, for example. I haven’t been through too many scary experiences. But there is a spooky one I’d like to relate in the name of Halloween. I was eighteen with a terrible habit of coming home past midnight. I drove down the silent middle-class suburban neighborhood where I lived in my parents’ house. It was excellently illuminated by street lights. I parked my trusty Chevy-Tracker, Ted, in front of the house and came inside. It was completely dark. My family was all asleep. Except for my brother who was still out. I went upstairs and collapsed on my bed before realizing I had left my phone in my car. So I went downstairs and opened the door. I had a strange feeling that I was being watched. I couldn’t help but hurry to the car. I had this nagging feeling that I wasn’t safe. I grabbed my phone, locked my car...
Read more

Do authors really need to read to be any good?

I've always been a writer. I remember being four or five years old and stringing together a few letters to create words to create a poem. It must have been a formative moment in my life because I remember the poem.  I grew up eventually--not all the way--but I wanted to share my words. When I finally had the courage to make my writing public, one single post about my glad tidings brought on an onslaught of advice.  There were a few words from friends embarking on the author journey, but most of it was from readers who were eager to tell me what not to do. One of them said something that has been reiterated SOOOO often that it really used to annoy me. This advice was "If you want to be a good author, you need to read." Seven times out of ten, this is said with a patronizing lilt and glasses pushed up the nose. I thought I was going to fail. I am a pretty fast reader, but I don't like reading generally. In High School, I read all the classics so I could hold conv...
Read more

Gems of gratitude.

It’s the time of year when my Facebook feed is filled with people doing their 30 days of gratitude for November. This year, I haven’t seen as much as I did last or the year before. I still enjoy reading the ones who do. I love it when the small details are recounted. For example, one of my friends once told me that the thing she missed the most about small children, was the pitter-pat of bare feet alongside the rustle of a diaper. It touched my heart. Ever since then, when I’m having a rough day, I take a deep breath and listen for that specific harmony. And I smile every time. I know, first hand, the benefits of cultivating and expressing gratitude. It’s been a matter of personal pondering and study. By that, I don’t just mean personal reflection. The scientific study of the effects of gratitude on someone’s wellbeing has been a topic that is gathering some steam in the past couple years. The findings are not surprising.  Apparently, people who keep gratitude journals report...
Read more