by Tiffany Sewell

Created on: November 14, 2009

He waits patiently

His eyes never leave mine

"Wait your turn," I say

"You'll get yours in time"

He licks his lips with longing

As I bite into the turkey leg

He knows to lay calmly

Nothing good comes when you beg

I shovel in the stuffing

I inhale the warm bread

He starts to grow impatient

And gently nudges me with his head

I savor the candied yams

I sip on my red wine

He paces back and forth

In the carpet, he wears a line

Now it's time for pumpkin pie

But wait, what's this left on my plate?

Here Deuce, you can have my cranberry sauce

I never liked it anyways

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