Thanksgiving at our house
My house is a disheveled mess
From twenty-one Thanksgiving guests
Our son from college
Seat of knowledge
I love it, I really must confess
But now the cleaning up must start
This is not my favorite part
In the trash
Something’s mashed
And ughit’s awful, smelling tart.
Leftovers from our holiday
What to do? What to save?
The fridge is bloated
Overloaded
What flavors will my family crave?
The turkey bones go in the pot.
Add some water, make it hot.
I’m making stock,
It’s gonna rock.
Soon I’ll cook with it a lot.
Better eat the veggies fast.
Do not wait, they won’t last.
They turn furry
In a hurry
And take on a grayish cast.
Half-open bottle of red wine
Goes in the stock and tastes just fine.
Pour it in.
It’s no sin.
Deep bodied, it will be divine.
The sweet potatoes mama brought
Are only good when piping hot.
So we’ll save them,
Microwave them,
Eat them steaming from the pot.
Some leftovers just have had it.
You really cannot reuse salad.
It gets icky,
And I’m picky.
Wilted salad isn’t valid.
I sent the pies home with my friend,
Else eat them, and widen my rear end.
They tasted good,
I knew they would.
My diet doesn’t understand.
Scrape the cornbread dressing pan.
Cover what’s left with Saran.
It’s so yummy
In the tummy,
I’ll eat up every bit I can.
The relishes from cranberries
Are health food for our old bodies.
Better than docs
Are antiox
idants and vitamins, like Cs.
My sister made the green bean dish
With fried onions, it’s delish.
I get too full,
It’s annual.
I try not to be too piggish.
The cider sitting in the jug
Is hardening into a drug.
Applejack,
It has the knack
Of snockering the ones who chug.
The fridge is emptying at last.
Keep eating all that we’ve amassed.
Thanksgiving food
Is so good,
Our yearly bounteous repast.