5 Funny Thanksgiving Poems

Bring a smile to your face as you read these funny thanksgiving poems. The gathering of family and friends, and the food shared as bring happy memories and funny times and stories.

Thanksgiving Poems    /   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.

  2. funny poems
    Funny Poems

  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!

  4. Thanksgiving wishes
    Thanksgiving Wishes

  5. 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 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 pies we give three cheers.
    It would not be Thanksgiving day
    Without Grandma's pie for the holiday

  6. for laughter and remembered pranks; for prayers at night - I give thee thanks
    Thanksgiving Prayers

  7. 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 pardner 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.

  8. Let these famous poems by Edgar A. Guest bring a smile to your face.

  9. 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.

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Featured Famous Poets:

Catherine Pulsifer
Catherine Pulsifer

Edgar A. Guest
Edgar A. Guest

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