I hold three magic rocks, in my hand. Rolling them over and over and over. Leaving this
reality behind, far behind I stepped into the magic mirror and there I was back in 1959. It
was the same month, November. I looked around and it was the same as I remember it had
been then. Mom looked so young and beautiful and said, "The school bus will be here in a
few minutes." I looked at the calendar and saw that it was November 25th, the day before
Thanksgiving. I said, "But mom, I haven't been in school in forty years." I got this strange
look from her but she didn't say anything. Walking toward the door I caught a reflection of
myself in the hall mirror. I was so young. My hand immediately went to my face and I
stopped and stared at myself for a few minutes. I said, "Mom, can I stay home and be with
you today?" Again I got that strange look from her, then she smiled and said, "Sure, it's
your last day before Thanksgiving anyway, why not?" She and I sit down and talked for
hours. Then I said, "Do you mind if we go next door and visit with Maw Maw and Paw Paw?
I haven't seen them in so long and I've missed them terribly!" Again another strange look
from mom. Next door I saw Maw Maw and Paw Paw as they had been in 1959. I wept and
they all looked at me so strangely. I hugged them and kissed them all and we talked for
hours. Dad finally came home from work and I ran and hugged him so hard. "Dad why did
you have to leave us in June?" Again I got strange looks from everyone. My tears were
falling. I saw Aunt Frances and Uncle Bill who lived beside Maw Maw and Paw Paw. "I've
missed you both for so long." Strange looks again! They didn't understand because to them,
it was just another day in 1959. The day grew late and I knew my time was soon ending. I
got near the magic mirror and mom and dad were standing there so young and healthy. I
said, "Mom I'll see you on the other side of the mirror, but dad, I'll see you another time,
another place." They didn't understand. I stepped back through and my reflection was as it
had been before. Mom was sitting in her chair at age 84. I said, "Mom, do you remember
the day before Thanksgiving, 1959, when I stayed home from school and we spent the day
together?" She said, "Yes, it was so strange that you could never remember anything about
it. It was as though you had amnesia.
Copyright © Marty Owens
A Child's Thanksgiving Prayer
Lord, I thank thee as I sit to eat,
For mashed potatoes that I helped to make.
And thanks, dear Lord, we're having something sweet.
Besides the beets and peas, there's pies and cake!
I thank thee for the sweet potatoes too
‘Cause Mom put tiny marshmallows on top.
They melted into white and taste goo;
Bless Mom, this time her cooking didn't flop!
And thanks, dear Lord, my cousins came today.
I only get to see them once a year.
It snowed, and so we're going out to play.
Only my aunt Ruthie isn't here.
I'm glad she caught a cold. Forgive me, Lord.
It's just she talks so much we kids get bored.
A Dad's Thanksgiving Prayer
Thanks, Lord, for this day of our Thanksgiving.
I've got a nice long weekend thanks to thee,
Starting with what I call really living-
Football on TV for me to see.
I'm thankful for this turkey on the table,
And for my wife, who bought it at the store
Even though she had to read the label
On how to cook the thing and even more . . .
Because this was her first time hosting dinner,
There was a lot my poor wife had to learn.
But the pumpkin pie turned out to be a winner,
And the gravy(which I love), she didn't burn!
And praise to thee, my kid is not as bad
As those that my wife's sister Annie had.
A Mom's Thanksgiving Prayer
I thank thee, Lord, for this Thanksgiving Day,
For helping hands to clear away this mess;
For snow to tempt the kids outside to play;
For all my family and the meal's success.
I haven't seen my sisters in a while.
Though Ruthie's gone, I'm glad we all can chat.
The men are in the den. Each wears a smile.
They're chugging Buds and happy getting fat.
I'm thankful too that Mom and Dad are here.
They're taking all the kids to see a show
Tomorrow while the men are drinking beer.
I hope nobody gets into a row!
Bless Mom and Dad. The kids will have them hopping
(Especially Annie's kids) while we're out shopping!
For PD's "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.. any food, thanksgiving
or turkey poem CONTEST.. Poetry Contest"
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich
Thank you – Zamreen Zarook
Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.
Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.
People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.
Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook
The poem is dedicated to my Mom..My bestest buddy ever..
wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare
Mom - You are my harmonious World!!!!
MOM you are a beautiful angel who always had an great heart of making my problems simpler..just cant compare you with anyone in this world..You have been moonlighting in my life since many years..you are my shadow,you are my strength,you are great friend of my mine..thanks for being the bestest mom ever in my life..you struggled so hard for curving my career,u painted ma life with colourful rainbows,thanks for ur patience when I get panicked,you knw how to handle me..My life will be incomplete without you..I can't spend a single day without having thought abt you..you always shower with an unconditional love..you are the mesmerised persona..who lime lighted my life..my world..Wish you a very happy birthday and happy mother's day too..Love you mummy..
Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare
I do not know?
someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...
(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)
a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband
who was in exile at the time...
in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...
the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...
one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...
the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay
the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...
the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...
a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...
the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...
by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...
but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...
the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...
the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...
and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...
the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...
she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...
the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...
‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...
the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...
the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...
Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...
then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...
the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...
a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...
the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...
Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...
This was in the mid-1970’s...
Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...
the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...
a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...
a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...
and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...
and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...
(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses
My mom was a strong woman, and stubborn too,
Yet she had a soft side, between me and you.
That side she would show, when you least expected,
But let me tell you, she was well respected.
Mom was quite unique, and was one of a kind,
She was set in her ways, so keep that in mind.
The youngest of nine, she had gotten her way,
Spoiled by her siblings’, almost every day.
Right out of high school, she had married my dad,
Blessed with three children, plus fifty years they had.
They both were hard workers, in all that they did,
My dad taught himself, from when he was a kid.
My mom was a smoker, for forty-six years,
Some day it would happen, she’d face all her fears.
Lung cancer she had, and inoperable too,
Her time on this earth, would be shortened we knew.
Radiation and Chemo, had done their thing,
Remission set in, tears of joy it did bring.
We would go out at night, to shop and to talk,
I knew she enjoyed, getting out for a walk.
Two years had gone by, after Thanksgiving Day,
Her pain had returned, but was afraid to say.
She’d lie on the couch; it was strength she did lack,
We knew in our hearts, that the cancer came back.
We shared lots of laughter, but many a tear,
I tried to assure her, she’d nothing to fear.
“Please watch over your dad, this one thing I ask.”
“I know it will be, quite a difficult task.”
One morning in March, Hospice called us to say,
You may want to come, for she’s slipping away.
For the night before, mom told me to stay home,
“Be there for your kids, you can call me by phone.”
When we all arrived, for a moment she woke,
Her eyes said it all, not a word had she spoke.
We stayed by her bedside, just holding her hand,
“It’s time to let go mom, we all understand”.
A few days had passed, not ready to let go,
For it had been raining, but letting up slow.
The sun began shining, the clouds disappeared,
Opening the heavens, for mom’s time has neared.
We gathered together, her forehead we kissed,
Whispering so softly, how much she’d be missed.
“Your time has arrived mom, just follow the light”,
She left us so peaceful, she gave up her fight.
It was time to drive home, in the car we got,
Then something had happened, while leaving the lot.
Huge drops of rain falling, it had to be fate.
They were tears of joy; she was at heaven’s gate.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski
A Ride With Mom
All alone in bed
Tonight I am dreaming of the dead
Mom and I were in the car driving
I had no idea where we would be arriving
It was a sunny day
Mom didn’t have much to say
Then suddenly I awoke
This ride was no joke
All these questions in my head
This always happens to me with a visit from the dead
What did Mom want to tell me
Did she just want to share Thanksgiving Glee
So now Mom’s presence in my dream
Sends me to my desk to write down my mental stream
I haven’t dream’t of Mom in years
Not since the Funeral Fears
It’s Two AM in the mourn
Writing this poem is this how Love is born
I will tell my new Lady Friend
About my dream and what I have penned
Did Mom want to hear about Caroline
The Spanish Mexican Beauty who is Divine
Long Luscious Black Hair
A Beautiful Face Beyond Compare
An Angel’s Voice
I have no choice
Her spell is starting to take hold of me
The sight of her can send any man to his knee
Her aroma is intoxicating
I think she is much more than a Fall Fling
Saturday I will give her a purple and white rose
This woman has driven me to write prose
Well I guess it is my turn to take a Female Chance
Maybe we will both find romance
Is this why Mom took me for a ride tonight
To show me my search for Love is finally in sight
Only time will tell if Mom is right
That Caroline will be my darling delight
Copyright © Joseph Elward
Turkey in the oven.
Hands on basting and rubbing.
All adults on deck for setting the table.
Not a seat empty for even a child so able.
Knocks on the door as family arrives.
So happy Mom's in the kitchen, now we'll survive.
Getting the TV all warmed up for a day of football.
In and out the kids run up and down the hall.
Velvet cake hides behind the fruit not seen.
In comes the family passing through the kitchen with gleam.
No samples tasted for Mom is the boss.
Getting ready for this meal still a salad to be tossed.
Day begins with smiles and joy.
All fall asleep for the deserts are my toy.
You have to love this day of thanks for Mom and Dad and every girl and boy.
Copyright © Michael J. Falotico
Mom is just mom when she wants to be,
I wish she was more independant in life.
What I write is the truth, she'd probably agree.
Maybe she didn't do a good job as a wife,
Put down the alcohol and look towards God.
Because He is the one who will make things right.
This past Thanksgiving I didn't sense your love
You didn't cook Turkey, no family was present.
I left and you didn't even give me a loving hug.
Since I became a Muslim, I'm not feeling your presence,
You also act different in front of my girl,
I guess mom is just mom, that's my life's lesson.
Hopefully situations will get better for you
And one day you'll realize in this world what is true.
Copyright © Bakari Wright
Mother always tried to make precious moments through out our lives.
Where if someone needed a smile, or just to say wow.
We could remember the poclein precious moments we shared with family and, friends, and that is how this began.
As she slept I knew she was fighting for her life.
With her armor already on she prepared for battle.
Mother, can you hear me as I read to you, fighting along side of you?
Mother, can you hear her singing to you fighting along side?
Mother, can you feel her touch as she tries to be the strongest because she is your first born still fighting along side of you silently.
Honey, daddy says as he stay up watching you, fighting along side of you as you slept fighting for your life.
Mother, could you feel the silent prayers from your family and friends fighting along side of you.
The battle is over!
Now she is awake, but the war still goes on.
Still, not completely with us, mother continues to fight infections, pain medication and much more to get back to us.
Now she is back!
Fully recovered from her surgery, and this is what she had to say.
"My life was not in my hands". Mother said.
I could feel my body spliting into two and it was nothing I could do.
I was screaming for my loved ones with no avail.
They could not hear my voice, or so it seemed.
I was dead, alone, wishing for one more moment with them.
Just to let them know how much I loved them.
I knew I was in the valley of the shadow of death, fighting for my life because I knew how hard my family was fighting along side me.
Thinking back on that war, I can not do anything else but lift my hands up because...
I won. We won.
Even though I do not know what lies ahead of me, I will lift my voice to the lord and give him thanks because I was dead and now I am alive.
With all his love to share with others.
Dedicated to my mother
with all our love
Copyright © April Walter Skyy