There once was a Turkey in a Nantucket bog,
Who sat with the farmer drinking some grog.
The axe, he was sure he could duck it,
So at the computer he typed "f**k it."
He lost his head before he'd posted his blog.
Now this Turkey resides on a heavenly roost,
And on a keyboard all his thoughts are loosed
On a Web Page about fear of the axe,
And those who perform those attacks.
No longer would his goosebumps feel goosed.
He published his blog to world-wide acclaim
And gave warning to those who would maim,
"Spare the game birds in fowldom."
His posts pleased and it wowed 'em;
Keeping his head was bringing untold fame.
There came a day the Pearly Gates opened wide
When someone familiar to him stepped inside,
And then a voice proclaimed aloud
There was a Holiday for that cloud.
Twas St. Peter, the farmer, and his axe in stride.
And so throughout the clouds there was heard
Of a big feast to honor a certain blogging bird.
Heaven would celebrate Thanksgiving
Such feasts weren't for only the living.
His last blog told of the day he was buttered.