The turkey wasn’t mine today
I missed on my third throw
My bowling score was decent but
Not good enough, although
I rather miss this turkey kind
Than have been just like George
Who powerful and bold and dared
With iron he’d been forged
He, George, would take off after pet
That accidentally freed
Would need to be a’rescued from
George afore it would bleed
(Or so I’m told a dog got out
And tried to turkey eat
The facts are kind of hazy
And this poem is complete)