'Twas Christmas morning and we leapt out of bed.
It was chilly with pre-dawn frost, though no snow for a sled,
but with four wheels and a hundred horses or more
off to Elmer’s we went with a roar.
We arrived with a cooler full of Christmas fare to be warmed,
but of the sight to confront us, we had not been warned.
Elmer greeted us at the door sporting a big ol’ black eye
and The Wife, with hands on hips, demanded to know why.
Resistance was futile and this is Elmer’s story
about how he ended up with a face so gory.
Twas the night before Christmas around the Bay.
It was a time when all should be hitting the hay,
but up and down the shore
not all the creatures were a-snore.
Including Elmer with his rod-tip twitching
as his lure he was bay-ward pitching.
Naughty or nice, Santa may be on his way
but there were fish to be caught out there in the bay.
He reeled in a keeper and tossed it up on the shore,
safely away from water’s edge as he turned back for more.
Suddenly behind him there was an almighty clatter
and mid-cast he turn to see what was the matter.
There! A big ol’ Turkey wrestling with his fish,
straining mightily to carry it off for his own dish!
At the slo-mo speed of an old-man’s flash,
Up the rip-rap Elmer did dash.
Toe to claw, fist to wing, nose to beak
Elmer did confront that bearded Tom in a pique.
From both there arose such a flapping and squawking
it had fishermen and passersby alike gawking.
But alas, this fight Elmer did lose
earning nothing but an eye with a big nasty bruise
while the Tom, mighty wings straining
with fish in beak, was altitude gaining.
Off in the distance, just before that wild Tom flew out of sight
He gave out a gobble that sounded suspiciously like; “And to all a good night!”