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The Christmas Goose
by Beth LaBuff The old farmhouse exuded glee Unbridled expectation, While youth and elders strategized Their Christmas celebration. The merriment that overflowed Infected fowl and beast. In the barnyard peace ensued And acrimony creased. Except that is, one envious pig Got up his porker dander When he observed the peacock strut Of one illustrious gander. The gander overheard the cook, Whose silvered-tongue was loose, That if he plumped-up, he'd become This seasons Christmas goose. The whole farmhouse, both young and old, At once began to pander, Feeding this and bits of that To fatten up the gander. To be the Christmas goose MUST BE The wish of every gosling. For every inch his waistline grew, More lustrous grew his goose dream. With each applause and patted-back And lofty gander praise, The pig's hate exponentially grew For all the gander's ways. Pig quipped, to put him in his place, "They're going to cook your goose." Then added, while his nose-ring bobbed, "You'll simmer in your juice." And then to emphasize his point They waddled to a window. From underneath they overheard The children's voices flow. With sing-song voice they patty-caked A chant that made him shiver. "Pluck the fowl, discard the tail, Take out his goosey-liver." "Add peppercorns, season to taste, Then truss him up with kite string. Cook will roast the Christmas goose that's Crammed with chestnut stuffing." Then goose-bumps on the gander flared. His face grew flushed, then paled. A plan began to formulate So he'd not be de-tailed. With not a moment left to spare, He donned clothes from the clothesline. When cook went out to dress the fowl, He hid behind the grapevine. The cook, with kids and jealous pig, Searched far all o'er the place What started as a hunting crew Wound up a wild-goose chase. With nary a gander sighting Of hide, nor hair or feather, Cook then whipped up a Plan B The children thought 'twas clever. Epilogue The gander near the window crept, When deemed the coast was clear. The children's chant a second verse? Was music to his ears. "Green-bean casserole, candied yams, Pumpkin pie, and custard. We'll pig out on Christmas ham That's spiced with cloves and mustard." Copyright Beth LaBuff 2017 Before Beth LaBuff and her husband, Tilman, moved to the high desert of Arizona, she lived most of her life surrounded by the cornfields of Adair County, Iowa. http://www.faithwriters.com/websites/my_website.php?id=24676 Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |