Have you ever thought about the origin of the word “gobble”? To the ear it is an example of onomatopoeia, one we associate with turkey talk. But if you ask Tom Turkey, he might tell you it is the sound of panic, the fear of being invited to our Thanksgiving dinner. Poet, and friend, Jane-Ann Heitmueller shares with us her humorous Thanksgiving poem on the meaning of “gobble”.
By Jane-Ann Heitmueller
That â€œgobbleâ€ word, I wonder how it ever came to be?
The Pilgrims claimed â€˜twas uttered by Tom Turkey in the tree,
But if the truth is brought to light, on this Thanksgiving day,
WE are the real, true gobblers, in every single way.
We gobble up the dressing and we gobble up the ham.
We gobble every green bean and we gobble up each yam.
We â€œohâ€ and â€œahâ€ each morsel as the gobbling is resumed,
And savor every tid-bit as if all must be consumed.
Old Tom, a grin upon his face, a gleam within his eye,
He views us as we moan and stuff in that last crumb of pie.
Weâ€™veÂ gobbled into agony.Â Weâ€™ve gobbled into pain.
Weâ€™ve gobble as if the good Lord has given us no brain.
How filled and foolish we do feel, as we observe our girth;
Such excess, oh for goodness sake, what really is it worth?
We made a promise, just last year, weâ€™d not make this mistake
And how we wish weâ€™d kept it, as we feel our stomach ache!
Thus, we admit to one and all old Tom up in that tree is not
The real, true gobblerâ€¦.
My dear, itâ€™s you and me!