7 Funny Thanksgiving Poems

1. If Only Thanksgiving
   Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
   
   If only thanksgiving was every month
   A feast I would enjoy
   But then I got to thinking
   My diet it would destroy.
   
   But the food we eat at Thanksgiving,
   The turkey and the pumpkin pie
   It is all so good and tasty,
   To say otherwise is a lie.
   
   And, then there are the relatives
   Who gather each year
   Some of them drive me crazy
   But really they are all so dear.
   
   Maybe it is good that
   Thanksgiving only comes once a year
   It makes us realize
   That Christmas is near.




Thanksgiving Poems



2. May Your
   Poet: Unknown
   
   May your stuffing be tasty.
   May your turkey be plump.
   May your potatoes and gravy have not a lump.
   May your yams be delicious and your pies take the prize,
   And may your Thanksgiving dinner stay off your thighs!




Thanksgiving Wishes



3. Gobble, Hobble, and Wobble
   Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
   
   Turkey, turkey, gobble, gobble
   I ate so much I now hobble.
   Thanksgiving dinner we give thanks
   A day without any funny pranks.
   
   We gather together, happy we are
   Some of us came from afar.
   To share in a feast set for a king
   Oh, what a wonderful feeling.
   
   And as we all wobble away
   We give thanks for the great buffet.
   We will gather again next year
   We wish all the best to our family dear!




Happy Thanksgiving Quotes



4. Thanksgiving Pies
   Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
   
   Thanksgiving pies, they smell so good
   Memories from my childhood
   When Grandma baked the pies
   They tasted better than french fries.
   
   Thanksgiving is a time to share
   But in my family who would dare
   My brother has his homemade pie
   And says, "You touch my plate, you will die."
   
   The conversation comes stops
   As everyone likes their chops
   Savoring that piece of pie
   We finish with a sigh!
   
   We have to wait another year
   for Grandma's pies we give three cheers.
   It would not be Thanksgiving day
   Without Grandma's pie for the holiday




Thanksgiving Prayers



5. A Boy and His Stomach
   Poet: Edgar A. Guest
   
   What’s the matter with you - ain’t I always been your friend?
   Ain’t I been a partner to you? All my pennies don’t I spend
   In gettin’ nice things for you? Don’t I give you lots of cake?
   Say, stummick, what’s the matter, that you had to go an’ ache?
   
   Why, I loaded you with good things; yesterday I gave you more
   Potatoes, squash an’ turkey than you’d ever had before.
   I gave you nuts an’ candy, pumpkin pie an’ chocolate cake,
   An’ las’ night when I got to bed you had to go an’ ache.
   
   Say, what’s the matter with you - ain’t you satisfied at all?
   I gave you all you wanted, you was hard jes’ like a ball,
   An’ you couldn’t hold another bit of puddin’, yet las’ night
   You ached mos’ awful, stummick; that ain’t treatin’ me jes’ right.
   
   I’ve been a friend to you, I have, why ain’t you a friend o’ mine?
   They gave me castor oil last night because you made me whine.
   I’m awful sick this mornin’ an’ I’m feelin’ mighty blue,
   Because you don’t appreciate the things I do for you.




Thanksgiving Blessings



6. Father's Bad Record
   Poet: Edgar A. Guest
   
   You've heard a lot about the time
   That father carved the duck,
   And how the bird jumped off the plate
   And father cursed his luck.
   Since then he's never had a chance
   To test his carving skill,
   For mother always wields the knife.
   And mother always will.
   
   Somehow, when mother carves a goose,
   A turkey or a roast.
   She wastes no time, as father would,
   In idle jest or boast;
   But straightway goes about the task,
   And no one has to wait
   For mother to reclaim the bird
   Because it leaves the plate.
   She separates the joints with ease,
   She knows just where they are;
   For her it doesn't seem hard work
   The way it is with pa.
   The gravy does not fly about
   And scatter far and near;
   When mother starts to carve the duck
   There's not a thing to fear.
   
   Poor father says he keenly feels
   That he is in disgrace;
   He often begs of mother to
   Let him redeem his place.
   But mother snubs him with a word,
   Her will he cannot buck;
   For she recalls to mind the day
   That father carved the duck.
   
   Thanksgiving Day has little charm
   For father, for he knows
   That he must watch while mother carves,
   Remaining in repose.
   He's waited now for many years,
   And prayed that she'd get stuck;
   He wants to get another chance
   To try to carve a duck.
   
   Oh, how he wishes that her knife
   Would suddenly let fly;
   That she would make a slip, as he
   Had made in years gone by;
   That she would fail, as he had failed,
   That she would meet his luck;
   But nothing ever happens when
   Our mother carves the duck.




Be Thankful Poems



7. We All Gather
   Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
   
   We all gather for Thanksgiving dinner
   Family we are, each one of us a winner.
   Teasings and jesters are spread around
   And others just act like true clowns.
   
   Thanksgiving only comes once a year
   I love my family, I truly think they are dear.
   But you can go a little crazy if the time is too long
   You see some of them think they can do no wrong.
   
   And then there are those who break out in song
   You want to stop and give them a gong.
   Hugs and kisses at the end of the day
   As Thanksgiving is over and we send them away.