Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving

Twas the night before Thanksgiving, when all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The turkey was thawing in the fridge with care,

For the next day’s feast and all who’d be there.

The potatoes were peeled, in the fridge, in a pot,

While they wait to be boiled, mashed, and served hot.

With Poppa away, and I in my bed,

Thanksgiving’s menu kept cycling through my head.

When out in the front room came a bark from our pup,

I sprang from my bed to see what was up.

Down the dark hallway to the window to peek,

I pulled back the drape to see what made the dog speak.

Clouds hid the moon, grey fog shrouded the night,

Fallen leaf clutter camouflaged the dog’s fright.

I remembered once marshmallows dotted the leaves like snow,

The marshmallow gun Christmas, a few years ago.

Grandkids, cousins, uncles, aunts, all had fun,

Hiding all around in hopes of ambushing someone.

Thinking of the early start for cooking I would need,

I let go the drape, back to bed to proceed.

The holiday season tomorrow would begin,

With family, friends, all loved ones stopping by and dropping in.

I bowed my head to give my thanks for all of it in advance,

Knowing this quiet moment might be my only chance.

And as dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

Came a thought of marshmallows for the sweet potato soufflé,

That’s what I’d forgotten and would need the next day!

Then I thought of future blessings and remembered the past,

And my Mom’s sweet potatoes, no marshmallows, yet eaten just as fast.

So I slipped back into my bed, by now I was yawning,

And wondering what new memories would begin with Thanksgiving’s dawning.