address to the fowl

[Nighthawk]

A hail to ye, me hearty fowl
Big as an eagle, wise as an owl
Yer beak as sharp as a spur's star rowell
Some Ottoman bird who saw ye jerk, he
went and named ye after Turkey

We all have parts we love the best
We steal yer eggs from oot the nest
I'm partial to your swelling breast
You feed the army and the navy
As lang as we have plenty o' gravy

Is there some fool who'd rather have veg
Who makes his living on the edge
No biscuit in the gravy to dredge?
No wonder he still wears small sizes
His nightlife harbors no surprises

But mark the turkey eater's girth
His pride of place has come from birth
He'll wrestle those from all the earth.
Though he would not refuse some dressing
And sneak a bite before the blessing.

Ye powers that ponder us below
And wonder if we're slightly slow
Of course we eat- for we must grow
And grow and grow until we wobbles
Give us a bird that struts and gobbles!

Thankful for all assembled here,
your humble and obedient savant
MacLL

That'll do, good sir. That'll do.