Busting out the Thanksgiving Poetry
My youngest daughter, now in the the second grade in a local public school, pulled out her "poetry" collection from her kindergarten years. And by poetry collection, I mean poetry they were given to recite, not exclusively poetry they composed themselves.
Anyway ... we had a nice chuckle revisiting again the following Thanksgiving poem often recited at this public school:
Our Turkey GobblerThis is one of my favorite Thanksgiving poems.
Our Turkey Gobbler feels so sad,
He stands around and moans.
Tomorrow there will be nothing left
But just his poor, old bones!
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1 comment:
I like this one better:
The Turkey
The turkey is a great big bird
Who waddles when he walks.
His chin is always hanging down.
He gobbles when he talks.
His tail is like a spreading fan
And on Thanksgiving Day,
He sticks his tail high in the air
And swish, he flies away.
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