Tommy the Turkey came to stay,
not too long before Christmas day.
Entering our barn he settled in,
secure in the fact that he was thin.
Happy was he to know his fate,
not enough meat to fill a plate.
Marching around with wattle flowing,
If he was a cock, he'd be crowing.
Pecking away at all that grain,
never thinking the weight he'd gain.
Strutting about, swinging his snood,
Thinking he won't be anyone's food.
'Til one day nearing Christmas morn,
The farmer said, "my table he'll adorn".
Up behind him he did creep,
Hoping the turkey was fast asleep.
With one eye opened to Tommy's dread,
he knew right then why he'd been fed.
Tommy took off like an arrow propelled,
ducking the cleaver before being felled.
Sad to say Tommy's turkey trot,
didn't help, for he was soon caught.
Wishing now he'd eaten less seed,
for now he'll be a tasty feed.
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