What I’m Thankful For

Matilda Lee Franklin-Dupress
Was always the perfect hostess
Her cuisine was divine
Paired with just the right wine
And the napkins were matched to her dress

On Thanksgiving, Matilda went wild
In her fridge the ingredients were piled
She woke up before dawn
Put her best apron on
Went to work on the turkey and smiled

But alas, perfect things are quite rare
For the universe finds it unfair
It is hard to say why
Everything went awry
But the blame likely falls on the chair

She stepped on it to reach her best pan
The chair tipped, she fell, flailing her hands
She hit the relish tray
And three pies on the way
They all flew off and hit the trash can

Matilda was shaken and bruised
And those veggies now couldn’t be used
A tear pricked her eye
As she cleaned up the pie
For her flawless plan now was confused

That’s the point when things really got bad
While she cleaned, all distracted and sad
The potatoes all burned
The oven switch went unturned
So raw turkey was all that she had

By noon clearly all was disaster
When her husband came in and he asked her
Are you doing okay?
She just pushed him away
And the tears came on faster and faster

Since Gerald Dupress was a boy
He’d found turkey impossible to enjoy
He gave thanks for his life
Poured some wine for his wife
Then ordered a pizza with joy


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