Twas nearly Thanksgiving and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring 'cept maybe a mouse,
The fridge held a turkey long since safely dead,
and visions of cranberries danced in my head.
Then I glanced out the window and what did I see?
A full-feathered turkey looking straight back at me!
The turkey was perched aloft on our car,
I suppose it had flown there from somewhere afar.
It returned to its preening with no further thought;
And I yelled for a camera to snap a great shot.
My mate came a running with shutter all set.
He set about snapping, each shot the best yet.
The turkey's head rose and down she did squat,
A gift she then left us, and not in a pot.
Ere long her four flock mates ambled onto the scene,
And the turkey decided to return to the green.
Her huge feathered wings spread open quite wide
to assist her ungainly hop down to the side.
Then off the flock waddled, deep into the woods
In search of delectable dinnertime goods.
I'll never forget this most wonderous sight
of the bird on our car I call Turkey Delight.
When I downloaded this recent picture from my husband's camera, it cried out for a story, and that story took on a life of its own, emerging in a totally unexpected way. I just relaxed and let it have its way with me. Who knows? Maybe Sarabelle was working her magic. Sometimes it's good to cut loose and play with our stories. I've always said I was born without the poetry gene. I haven't changed that opinion, but it's fun to dabble in different writing forms now and then.
Write now: think of a fun or wondrous event and try a new way of expressing it. Poetry. Song. Crayola. Write with your non-dominant hand. Use colored markers. You may be amazed at the creativity boost you get.