Was the night before Thanksgiving,
And all through the lair,
Not a creature was stirring,
Except a big Bear.
He found the Tom Turkey, breasts and legs
All frozen hard, and no devilled eggs.
No cranberries, no dressing!
It was all quite distressing!
What of his secret pre-Thanksgiving raid?
Nothing was cooked, and nothing was made!
It was the worst Thanksgiving-eve night.
The Bear was so hungry he'd give YOU a bite!
There was some marmalade,
And it was getting late.
So he made him some Toast,
And crept to bed like a ghost.
And visions of salmon danced in his head,
because not even one devilled egg sent him to bed.
Tomorrow he'll forget he's a Bear,
And with all his family his feast shall he share!
Happy Thanksgiving dear readers, friends and benefactors. And a special shout-out to the You-Know-Who who is hitting my author page, presumable from here, from Vatican City.
The Bear is making good progress on Judging Angels. He is back the original ending chapters, which comprised a complex night action. Those will need heavy editing. Then, there are several more chapters to take care of a separate plotline/characters that the Bear really thinks ramps up the fun.
Obviously, a Christmas release is out of reach, but it has been agreed that it is better to wait and get it right, rather than publish less than the Bear's very best.
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