Turkey wings roasting, a full week before,
Gravy to make, with smells galore.
The meal is so big, it takes days to prepare,
The family is coming, no time to despair.
The frige is so full, no room for white wine,
Store in the garage, they should be just fine,
The reds we stand up to settle the dregs,
Decant them we will, from oak in the kegs.
The morning arrives, all the plans have been made,
The pies go in first, their smell just won’t fade.
They are so aromatic, you beg for a taste,
But mother says no, shoos you off in her haste.
The stuffing is key to a thanksgiving meal,
The bread crumbs prepared, the onions are peeled.
Saute those onions with sausage and spice,
Combine the ingredients, the smell is so nice.
Now stuff that big turkey, both ends must be filled,
Brush on melted butter, salt and pepper from the mill.
Extra butter in the pan for basting the bird,
Pop in the oven and don’t say a word.
The smells in the house portend a great feast,
The table is set, awaiting the beast,
To come out of the oven and go on display,
The browned skin proclaiming, it’s Thanksgiving Day.
Featured image Copyright Sara Snow on sarasnow.com.