Turkey Trot

By Reg Summerfield

Aynuk and Ayli went for a ride Driving in the Shropshire countryside After some fishin’ and riverside fun They got thirsty in the midday sun.

They felt hungry, wanting some grub So they ate and got sozzled in a little pub After all the scoffin’ and guzzlin’ beer Both their stomachs were feeling queer.

They decided to rest, to ease the pain They parked down a secluded country lane They got drowsy, began to snooze Sleeping off that dinnertime booze.

Ayli was woken by a tapping noise At the windscreen, a bird with enormous eyes It tapped again with its giant beak Ayli woke Aynuk, with a shriek.

The bird bolted off, at great pace Aynuk and Ayli quickly gave chase They followed the bird at quite a rate But pulled up quickly at a five-bar gate.

A farmer who was standing by Said ‘You won’t catch him unless you fly He’s one I hatched from turkey eggs They all came out with three legs!’

‘I fattened them up to enormous size Those great big legs, with meaty thighs My wife, son and I like turkey meat A leg apiece ... a Christmas treat’

Ayli said, ‘They’re very nice, I’d bet!’ ‘Cor tell,’ said the farmer. ‘I ay copped one yet!’