If, as you start toward Lillie’s festive spread,
You find me snoring loudly in my bed,
Awake me not, for I would fain repose,
And thro’ the day in quiet slumbers doze.
But lest I starve, for lack of food to eat,
Leave here a dish of Quaker Puffed Wheat,
Or breakfast biscuit, which, it matters not,
To break my fast when out of bed I’ve got.
And if to supper you perchance should stay,
Thus to complete a glorious festive day,
Announce the fact to me by Telephone,
That whilst you eat, I may prepare my own.
DESCRIPTION: In his poem “To His Mother on Thanksgiving,” Lovecraft requests that his mother refrain from waking him before she leaves for Thanksgiving dinner.
CITATION: Lovecraft, H. P. “To His Mother on Thanksgiving.” The Ancient Track: The Complete Poetical Works of H. P. Lovecraft. Edited by S. T. Joshi, Hippocampus Press, 2013, p. 425.