Thanksgiving Night

‘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 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.

I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes,
pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling so plump and so round,
’til all of a sudden I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling floating into the sky
with a mouth full of pudding and a hand full of pie.

But I managed to yell as I soared past the trees
"Happy eating to all, pass the cranberries please!

May your stuffing be tasty, may your turkey be plump,
may your potatoes and gravy have nary a lump,
may your yams be delicious, may your pies take the prize,
may your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs!"