Van Turken looking for coffee. Photo by Marguerite Boyer

by Valerie Kirkwood

That intrepid turkey,
Van Turken,
On rooftops and cars was seen lurkin’.
He evaded a Cop,
And made traffic stop,
And tried to keep people from workin’.

Van Turken,
our media star,
Brought laughter to those near and far.
He shopped locally,
Sometimes slept in a tree,
But wasn’t allowed in a Bar.

Van Turken likes fries, don’t you know,
And he isn’t afraid of the snow.
A Tim Bit or two,
At snack time will do,
Then he runs off,
stealing the show.

Van Turken’s fate was decided,
With cars he’d almost collided.
One Cop brought a net,
Van T said: “Not yet!”
And away o’er the snow he glided.

Van Turken guessed no a thing
Of the size of the net they’d next bring.
And then, flap flap, flap,
He was caught in their trap.
In Kemptville he’d had his last fling.

Van Turken is gone from these parts.
His file could be labeled “Fresh Starts”.
He lives a free life,
Maybe got him a wife
And he’ll always remain in our hearts.

Run, Van Turken, run!


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