Quoth the Turkey – a very Poe Christmas poem

Upon a Christmas midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“`Tis Saint Nicholas,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door –
Bringing presents, gifts galore!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately turkey of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door –
Perched upon a Christmas baubles just above my chamber door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though it’s answer bore great meaning – utter relevancy bore;
For we cannot help but Christmas dinner and
Ever yet each human being, bird or beast we dine as law.
Begged the turkey “Nevermore”.

But the turkey, sitting lonely on the festive balls, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered – not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have dined before-
On the morrow he will feed me, as so many have before”.
Then the bird said “Nevermore”.

Startled at the stillness broken be reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless”, said I,”What it utters is only stock and flour,
Caught from some unhappy cook whom unmercifully basted
Followed fast with salt and pepper till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his breast that sage and onion bore”
Quoth the turkey “Nevermore!”

Creative writing exercise

Now read the original work by Edgar Allan Poe, then find your favourite classic poem, put pen to paper, and rework said classic into a giant Christmas pudding, full of plummy delights…