Thanksgiving Poem

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 much 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.

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 to 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!