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The scansion is awful, but I appreciate the sentiment
The 12 Days of Turkey
On the first day of Christmas my true love said to me: I'm glad that we bought fresh turkey and a proper Christmas tree.
On the second day of Christmas, much laughter could be heard, as tucked into our turkey, a most delicious bird.
On the third day we entertained the people from next door and the turkey tasted just as good as it did the day before.
On day four, relations came and the kids were as good as gold: we finished up the Christmas pud and ate the turkey cold.
On the fifth day fo Christmas, outside the snowflakes flurried, but we were nice and warm inside and ate our turkey curried.
Day six, I must admit, the Christmas Spirit died, the children fought and bickered as we ate our turkey rissoles - fried.
On the seventh day of Christmas, My true love saw us wince as we sat down at the table and she served us turkey mince.
On day eight of Christmas, the dog ran for shelter as we ate our turkey pancakes with a glass of Alka Seltzer.
Day nine, the cat left home and by lunchtime dad was blotto; he said he'd had to drink just to face the turkey rissotto.
By day ten the booze had gone (except for our home made brew), and if that weren't bad enough, we had turkey stew.
By the eleventh day of Christmas, the Christmas tree was moulting, the mince pies were as hard as rocks and the turkey was revolting.
On the 12th day of Christmas, we smiled and licked our lips, for the guests had gone, the turkey too, and we had fish and chips.
Attributed to Mrs Margaret Sharp of Billericay, Essex, UK.
The 12 Days of Turkey
On the first day of Christmas my true love said to me: I'm glad that we bought fresh turkey and a proper Christmas tree.
On the second day of Christmas, much laughter could be heard, as tucked into our turkey, a most delicious bird.
On the third day we entertained the people from next door and the turkey tasted just as good as it did the day before.
On day four, relations came and the kids were as good as gold: we finished up the Christmas pud and ate the turkey cold.
On the fifth day fo Christmas, outside the snowflakes flurried, but we were nice and warm inside and ate our turkey curried.
Day six, I must admit, the Christmas Spirit died, the children fought and bickered as we ate our turkey rissoles - fried.
On the seventh day of Christmas, My true love saw us wince as we sat down at the table and she served us turkey mince.
On day eight of Christmas, the dog ran for shelter as we ate our turkey pancakes with a glass of Alka Seltzer.
Day nine, the cat left home and by lunchtime dad was blotto; he said he'd had to drink just to face the turkey rissotto.
By day ten the booze had gone (except for our home made brew), and if that weren't bad enough, we had turkey stew.
By the eleventh day of Christmas, the Christmas tree was moulting, the mince pies were as hard as rocks and the turkey was revolting.
On the 12th day of Christmas, we smiled and licked our lips, for the guests had gone, the turkey too, and we had fish and chips.
Attributed to Mrs Margaret Sharp of Billericay, Essex, UK.
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