My Life And Death.

(By A. Turkey Gobbler.)


I'm just a turkey gobbler,
    But I've got a word to say
And I'd like to say it quickly
    Before I pass away,
For I will get it in the neck
    Upon Thanksgiving Day.

I cannot keep from thinking
    Of poor Marie Antoinette,
She lost her head completely,
    But this is what I'll get--
They'll knock the stuffin' out o' me
    Without the least regret.

I've just a few days left now
    Before I meet my fate,
For every turkey gets the axe,
    The little and the great.
There never was a turkey born
    Who didn't fill a plate.

Only three days left now,
    Goodness, how time flies!
It brings a sadness to my heart
    And teardrops to my eyes.
Does every turkey feel that way
    Three days before he dies?

This is a very cruel world
    (I'm talking sober facts),
For I was only raised to be
    The victim of an axe--
The butt of all your silly jokes,
    And all your funny cracks.

And when you sit down Thursday
    How happy you will be,
Every person gathered there
    Will eat enough for three.
I'll be the guest of honor
    'Cause that dinner is on ME.

Edwin C. Ranck

Edwin C. Ranck was an American lyricist noted for his work in the early 20th century. He was a prolific writer and his lyrics were often characterized by their humor and wit. One of his standout works is the poem 'The Optimist', which reflects his positive outlook on life. Beyond that, little is known about his personal life or career. He remains a somewhat obscure figure in literary history.

Edwin C. Ranck

If I Could Fly.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

The Sad Turkey Gobbler.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

In Deeper Vein.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

Alas.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

English

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The Sad Turkey Gobbler.

O a fat turkey gobbler once sat on a limb
    And he sighed at the wind, and the wind sighed at him.
But the grief of the gobbler one could not diminish,
    For it was Thanksgiving and he saw his finish.
So the heart of the gobbler was heavy as lead
    And he muttered the words of the poet who said:
"Backward, turn backward, O Time in thy flight,
    Make me a boy again, just for to-night!"

Edwin C. Ranck

Thanksgiving Turkey

Valleys lay in sunny vapor,
And a radiance mild was shed
From each tree that like a taper
At a feast stood. Then we said,
"Our feast, too, shall soon be spread,
        Of good Thanksgiving turkey."

And already still November
Drapes her snowy table here.
Fetch a log, then; coax the ember;
Fill your hearts with old-time cheer;
Heaven be thanked for one more year,
        And our Thanksgiving turkey!

Welcome, brothers - all our party
Gathered in the homestead old!
Shake the snow off and with hearty
Hand-shakes drive away the cold;
Else your plate you'll hardly hold
        Of good Thanksgiving turkey.

When the skies are sad and murky,
'Tis a cheerful thing to meet
Round this homely roast of turkey -
Pilgrims, pausing ju...

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L'Envoi.

I'm the ghost of that poor gobbler
    Who used to be so great,
They took my poor, neglected bones
    And piled them on a plate.
Reader, shed a kindly tear
    For my unhappy fate.

This is the common lot of all
    Upon the world's great chart;
We've got to leave a pile of bones--
    The stupid and the smart.
Even when Napoleon died
    He left a Bonaparte.

We are merely puppets
    Moving on a string,
And when we think that we are IT,
    The axe will fall--"Gezing!"
O, Grave, where is thy victory?
    O, Death, where is thy sting?

Edwin C. Ranck

The Turkey And The Ant.

        We blame the mote that dims the eye
        Of other men, whose faults we spy;
        But we ignore the beam that lies
        With stronger strain in one's own eyes.

        A turkey, who grew dull at home,
        Resolved in the wild woods to roam;
        Wearied she was of barn-door food,
        Therefore she chuckled round her brood,
        And said, "My little ones, now follow;
        We'll go and dine in yonder hollow."
        They first upon an ant-hill fell -
        Myriads of negro-ants, pell-mell -
        "O gobble, gobble - here's a treat!
        Emmets are most delicious meat;
        Spare not, spare not. How blest were we,
        Could we here live from poulterers free!
        Accursèd man on turkeys preys,
        ...

John Gay

A Fowl Affair.

I hope I'm not too orthodox
    To give a joke away,
That took me like the chicken-pox
    And left a debt to pay.

Let argument ignore the cost,
    If it be dear or cheap,
And only claim that naught be lost
    When it's too good to keep.

The proverb says "All flesh is grass,"
    But this I do deny,
Because of that which came to pass,
    But not to pass me by.

A body weighing by the pound
    Inside of half a score,
In case and cordage safely bound,
    Was landed at my door.

What could it be? for friends are slack,
    And give, I rather trow,
When they are sure of getting back
    As much as they bestow.

My hair, at thought of dark design,
    Or dynamitish fate,
Stood up like quills of porcupine...

Hattie Howard

The Fox And The Turkeys.

Against a robber fox, a tree
Some turkeys served as citadel.
That villain, much provoked to see
Each standing there as sentinel,
Cried out, 'Such witless birds
At me stretch out their necks, and gobble!
No, by the powers! I'll give them trouble.'
He verified his words.
The moon, that shined full on the oak,
Seem'd then to help the turkey folk.
But fox, in arts of siege well versed,
Ransack'd his bag of tricks accursed.
He feign'd himself about to climb;
Walk'd on his hinder legs sublime;
Then death most aptly counterfeited,
And seem'd anon resuscitated.
A practiser of wizard arts
Could not have fill'd so many parts.
In moonlight he contrived to raise
His tail, and make it seem a blaze:
And countless other tricks like that.
Meanwhile, n...

Jean de La Fontaine