"W ith greatest apologies to Clement Clarke Moore, I offer up what is destined to be another holiday classic."
'Twas the night before Thanksgiving, when all through the kitchen,
Mama was busy makin' pies, the workload really had her bitchin'.
There was pumpkin, pecan, chocolate and even mince meat
Bread in a pan was rising to make sure we had plenty to eat.
Later the children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of drumsticks and dressing danced in their heads.
And Mama in her flannel bed shirt and I in my shorts,
had just settled into our bed after having a few snorts.
Later that night there arose such an aroma,
That ham in the oven they must smell it in Oklahoma.
From that point on sleep was no use,
To say I wasn't starving would just be a ruse.
Eventually Turkey Day dawned bright and fair,
naturally, I reached for the remote to see what was on air.
Al Roker and dozens of Santa's elves,
in Macy's Parade were making great fools of themselves.
Soon in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my recliner to see what was the matter.
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
saw the cooking beginning and left in a dash.
Nestled all snug in my den,
finally the football was set to begin.
With play-by-play so lively and swell,
I knew in a moment it must be Howard Cosell.
More rapid than eagles his analogies they came
He knew the players well and called them by name:
"Now Staubach! Now Morton!
Now, Dandy Don and Romo!
On, Aikman! On, White
On, Vinnie and Bledsoe!
To the 50-yard-line
To the mean red zone
Until running for pay dirt they spy a receiver alone.
Finally with noontime just past,
Tom Turkey on the table arrived at last.
His drumsticks were juicy, his breast so plump,
and his giblets all diced up gave the gravy its lump.
We spoke not a word but fell straight to our meal,
our forks and knives flashed with quick glint of steel.
Finally after dessert we pushed back from the table,
and waddled to the couch, we were only just able.
He mumbled a bit as he started to doze,
the gravy stains might never come out of his clothes.
Finally he said as he drifted off to slumber beneath sale flyers,
Happy Thanksgiving to all, Black Friday awaits all buyers!
Karl Terry writes for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him at: firstname.lastname@example.org