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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Sci-fi · #2066451
A reason for missing Thanksgiving dinner.

So I heard Uncle Ronald was taken to space;
he was ushered on high by an alien race.
A large clan I do know--one of whom I am fond--
spent Thanksgiving together without Uncle Ron.

(Now I tell you this story--it‘s merely hearsay,
  ‘bout the McAfee clan down New Mexico way.
  And the cabin they rented in mountains so high
  was quite small for the clan, but they thought they’d get by.)

Mabel McAfee got word from Ron via phone;
in the background she heard what she thought was a drone.
As the humming intensified, Ron gave a yelp;
and the last thing she heard was Ron crying for help.

Mabel uttered intently to her husband Fred:
“You will not believe what Uncle Ronald just said.”
“Just another excuse, and I must say I‘m pissed!”
(All the clan knew that Ron was a Ufologist.)

Fred faced Mabel with genuine doubt in his eyes:
“You don’t think that he’d stoop to such UFO lies!”
Sister Sarah grabbed Fred by his elbow extant,
her round countenance reddish in search of a rant.

“He's a master excuser, you know that it’s true!”
“If you need further proof, then I‘ll give it to you.”
“When I spoke with him last I was left in a daze;”
“he told me he was stalked by the alien Grays!”

Junior Ample then sidled up close to his Ma
being very disturbed by the drama he saw.
He asked, “Ain’t Uncle Ronald attending this year?”
(Hearing him use attending induced mother’s tear.)

Mabel clutched to her Ample with verve, so to speak,
feeling motherly pride mixed with McAfee pique.
Then she asked of her husband, her face drawn with pain;
“Shall I tell him the truth, or let fantasy reign?”

Sarah walked Ample among the McAfee crowd
and began to sing, Thanking the Good Lord, quite loud.
The diversion seemed right and it tempered the mood
wherein all of the clan enjoyed Thanksgiving food.

As the stuffing and drumsticks were gnawed with aplomb,
there was heard a disturbance which shattered the calm.
Every McAfee seeing the UFO there
heard Ron crying for help as it left, they do swear.


40 Lines
Anapestic Tetrameter
Writer’s Cramp
11-24-15
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