Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without a nice plump bird lovingly prepared for the special day with hours of careful attention and a fitting sense of tradition, richly adorned for my personal delight and presented positively steaming with mouthwatering succulence.
A genuine festive pleasure that never fails to get the seasonal juices flowing. The sense that one can never have too much of a good thing is never more pertinent than at this time of year when a delicious richness of excess can never be refused even though one has already enjoyed more than one's fair share of the feast.
The eyes hungrily roam across the gratifying flesh that so temptingly awaits my sharpened appetite with an ever increasing level of rapture as the sacred moment approaches when I am finally permitted to taste and savour my select Christmas spread with an eager, voracious love that knows no bounds.
And having taken much more than my fill of this heavenly repast, I am more than once tempted back for another helping of this glorious dish until I dreamily arrive at a point so far beyond mortal satisfaction that a deep slumber overcomes me and I happily sleep off the fabulous indulgence and voluptuous gratification that I have once again so joyously succumbed to.
