Wildhair's Thanksgiving poem:
Thanksgiving Delight
November 25, the day of Thanksgiving
The feast of the year, the top of living!
When our guests come over, we turn on the game
Some commercials are good, yet others so lame!
The table is set, like a stage for a play
Outside, it's snowing - for this isn't May!
Your feet automatically take you to the kitchen
You see stuffing, sweet potatoes, and turkey - not chicken!
You then hear, "TOUCHDOWN HOME!"
You jump up and down like bubbly sea foam.
And, then, from the kitchen, says a motherly bellow,
"WASH YOUR HANDS, COME AND EAT!"
Everyone's excited, mostly for turkey meat.
- by the eleven-year-old boy
