Thanksgiving looms in the air as leaves flitter here and there,
"Old Tom" struts and ambles in the barnyard scares the mare.
He pecks the ground offers me a heads-up and a wink,
before I know it; he’s running after me afore I can think.
I don’t know what to do as spurs hit me in my knees,
I’m fighting and begging "Tom" quit, quit, quit please!
My legs are bleeding but "Tom" hangs on continues to fight,
the old bird’s determined to make me look a terrible fright.
He flaps feathery wings in my face and pecks my nose,
I’m scared to death he’ll destroy my pair of brand new hose.
I grab to catch him by the neck, he begins to peck and peck,
spurs search for my chest but they end up around my neck.
The fight’s in full swing, "Tom’s" not afraid of me or anything,
this is his barnyard and no-one’s allowed to try to intervene.
Animals are trotting, chicken flogging and running about,
afraid they’ll be next for "Tom" to pick a fight and a bout.
I try to run up the porch steps but "Tom’s" not ready to quit,
knocks me down a step, jumps on me, pecks and sits.
It’s sad to see what’s happened to me as "Tom" sets me free,
animals, chickens, geese, and pigs start to run wild to flee.
"Tom" struts and acts like the king of the barnyard grounds,
Dad’s mad at "Tom" and removes him to the local pound.
It’ll be great to go outside with "Tom" no longer around;
he was the most dangerous Thanksgiving turkey in our town.
No turkey will be bake and served on a platter in our home,
"Tom" met his fate as he left the pound and was finally gone.
He taught me a lesson I shall remember for the rest of my life,
don’t fool around with a "Tom" who starts a furious fight.
I hope you and yours Thanksgiving will be one of your best,
don’t allow your "Tom" to taut and to put you to the test.
Happy Thanksgiving to each and everyone of you!
Writer of this poem is Barbara Kasey Smith the sole writer