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Olfactory Farm Memories The turkey is in The stuffing made The smell of onion fills the air Now begins The long long wait Time so slow it’s hard to bear Try as I might It can’t be done There is no way to duplicate The apple pies The homegrown peas And corn and turnip on my plate I didn’t care As I cussed and swore At all the work and weeding I didn’t know How much I’d miss Thanksgiving homegrown feeding |
Additional Notes:
I shoulda been a Gentleman Fahma!(that's farmer for all you non-yankess!)
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