A Thanksgiving poem . . .

Once upon a time, Mom gave me a box of all (and I do mean all - every spelling test, Bible test, etc.) my childhood school papers, grade-school yearbooks, and other frighteningly memorable paraphernalia.

Lucky me, she goofed and put in something that actually belonged to Chris. It was a collection of Thanksgiving poems his class wrote when he was at Pellston. The date was November 1979. It was compiled by the fourth, fifth and sixth grade classes. I don't know which class he was in at the time - he was about 11 at the time - so sixth grade?

I figure he doesn't contribute enough to this family blog, so I better help him out. Thanks, Chris for making this so easy . . . and so funny.

So, without further ado . . .

A Thanksgiving poem
by Christopher R. Hawk
age 11

Thanksgiving morning
When everyone's snoring
It's very boring.

But Mom's fixing the turkey
And minds still murkey.

The smell of the bird
Makes me feel absurd.

So I'm in the mood
For lots of food.

The company's here
With a great big deer.

We say our good-bye
And we gave them some pies.

Here's to you, Chris, to "feeling absurd" this Thanksgiving. Love you!

Oh, and who's bringing the deer this year?