Somewhere over Ragged Mountain, Past the Albemarle Square, I took up the invitation to have a good Thanksgiving there. I was greeted on the hilltop by an injured pack of dogs, They my guides into the table where the feast was laid out grand. (My momentum grew so eating that I nearly took my hand.) We ate and drank into the twilight, Forget the early morning sun. And the wine continued pouring, And the hymns were being sung. I finally realized in the morning how this thankful thing was done. Thank You Andrew and your family, Thank you Thank you, It was fun.
