I thank you for all I have experienced today.
I thank you for guiding me, protecting me, teaching me
and keeping me safe from harm this day.
I thank you for every meal I have eaten today.
I thank you for protecting my family today.
I thank you for every kind word spoken to me and about me today.
I thank you for every opportunity I had today to help somebody,
to listen to somebody, to remind somebody that each day is a blessing.
I thank you for forgiving me every time I was intolerant or impatient today.
I thank you for your grace, your compassion, your generous and unconditional love.
I thank you that you make it possible for us to do this again tomorrow.
Good Night GOD.
(the edited version)
Copyright © Carlene Simpson | Year Posted 2016
Thanksgiving is for celebrating with family and friends.
Some live far away and some live so near.
Some we have lost over the years
We give thanks together with cheer,
never forgetting the ones we hold dear.
Give thanks to the new and old years ago for these years pass by us so quickly you know.
Give thanks for what we have and hold dear.
But always remember to hold yours and theirs near.
Happy Thanksgiving to you
Copyright © nancy hupperich | Year Posted 2015
An Ode to Turkeys
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
There was a time, year one thousand A.D
U.S. turkeys faced a brand new plight.
Native American's hunting delight.
The white meat of a turkey is quite lean.
So much healthier than man knew before,
Nothing one ever could say,
In any way,
Would make Americans free turkeys anymore.
Thanksgiving comes and goes.
Wild turkey gobbling slows.
Ben Franklin watched their plight.
Nominated, though laughter did flare.
Turkeys beneath the moonlight
Were beautiful out there.
Ben suggested, turks as the nation's bird.
But eagles know, it was not so.
And turks in history endured this nations birth.
Although wild turkeys can run fast and fly,
Toms might in spring be found.
Fluffing, dancing around.
Caruncle and waddle shiny, bright red
Courting the hens, showing off, prancing, not dead.
Although turkeys fly strong,
The hunters by day kept watch in the fields.
Until, Old Tom, no more sang passion's song
And hens under bushes sat on eggs long.
When chicks hatched out and played their mother shields.
But on Thanksgiving Day...
Note: Carolyn, thanks for the video suggestion. It is very funny. I decided to post the link
here. The HISTORICAL one is found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1213z9KHNs
(TIME HEALS ALL: We do LOVE you, MOTHER ENGLAND... from you we were BORN.)
The HYSTERICAL one is found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnLyqBtU_F8
ENJOY the FUN!
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009
Trying prayer, realising
it doesn't stop right there.
You say a prayer and hope
that its enough, that your
words of love have reached
Heaven above. Just stop and
think how we have asked? Was
it behind a mask of sorrow and
shame.Thinking we are not good
enough to receive a blessed gain.
We have it all wrong as its what
Jesus has already done. None are
worthy its Gods free gift of grace.
So raise your head, truly open your
eyes. Look up and realise love does
have a face, thank you Jesus
Copyright © Andy Craig | Year Posted 2013
It’s that time of year again...
When family and friends gather together..
To share and give thanks for all that they treasure..
The young and the old, the tall and the small..
The Vegans and the Carnivores, come one come all...
There are dishes of tradition, like Turkey and stuffing..
Mashed potatoes, gravy, and cranberry muffins..
Green Bean casserole, and corn soufflé...
Are just some of the dishes of the day....
And of course a relish tray to take off the edge...
With that awesome Spinach dip in Pumpernickel bread...
So many desserts at this time of year...
But the favorite of all , synonymous of the Fall..
Is that Jack’O ‘Lantern, orange Gourd.....
known as Pumpkin Pie...
As the children play a game of touch football...
Something that is 24-7 on this day in Fall..
As Grandpa sits in the afternoon sun...
Remembering back ..when he was young...
Then the words of “ Let’s eat “ fills the air...
And everyone sits down in their chair..
Who wants the first slice ? Dark meat or White ?
Grandpa asks...then proceeds to take the first bite..
Everyone fills their plate, till it can’t hold no more...
Yet some go back, for more and more....
Finally everyone is full...can’t eat another bite..
Till the smell of fresh coffee brings on a plight...
Aahh dessert ..and the best part of all....
“ PUMPKIN PIE “ !!!! ....It appears was a "Majority Call"...
This is “ my “ favorite time of the year....
When you mention "MY" name, everyone gives a cheer !!!
So without further adieu ...Grandpa picks up the knife...
As I am the “ MAJORITY CALL “ and receive the first slice....
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
In the mournful days of human life,
No thing is to last to the last,
The cheerful ray that lightens our day,
No sooner shall it turn its back and darken our days.
I, without any fear I dare,
I dare to spill the beans of deadly life,
No thing is so certain, but death!
So is the bitter truth of living life.
We live as if we never are to die,
We enjoy the joy as if there’s no word as Grief,
We depart with the loved ones with a hope to meet again,
Act as if we are so sure to rule over one’s breath.
But now, to those who knows and dares,
To face and accept my words,
shall live his life creating a bright moment,
At which everyone shall think back and drop tears of joy.
And I am to drop my tears of joy soon,
Having knowing you, I consider not luck but fate,
Having learnt from you, I consider not gain but bless,
So I now pray before you..
May I get to see the light that enlightened me again,
but If I ever fail to save my final breath before anyone,
So sure I am, My words shall succeed to bring a tear ,
A tear from you, A tear of memory, A tear of joy.
The joy which we once ruled as one…..
Copyright © Gyempo Wangyell | Year Posted 2016
Oh thee! Of feathered frock
Bird of paradise – you are not
For you wobble when you walk
And gobble – gobble - while you talk
Oh thee! Of stubby legs
Neck hanging in a bag
Of skin that sags and sags
How can you face another day?
Oh thee! With girth rotund
With wings of nearly none
Your flight is but a funny run
Some chase you just for fun
Oh thee! Of feathered frock
Bird of paradise - you are not
As you lie on chopping block
Ending up in cooking pot.
But come Thanksgiving Day-
Everyone will gladly say
You are by far - the finest bird
That God has ever made.
Inspired by: Donna Golden’s contest: Tribute to the turkey
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009
Some things about that New Year’s Eve
I never will forget;
A sweet, soft-spoken Andrea
and young man proud to wed.
My New Year’s cheers was sounded by,
four strangers on a street.
Opening their hearts to me –
how beautiful when new souls meet.
Yes, as I strolled those joyous roads;
love pouring uncontained.
My most embracing New Year’s kiss,
with Mary shall remain.
So many faces on my rove –
How David’s words me touched.
It all became too much.
And as I wandered back to where,
my peace and solace reigns;
I’m thanking all the faces that,
me this acclaim attains.
Copyright © Gavin Joachims | Year Posted 2015
Thanksgiving Day has been a family tradition for years. The holiday's been around since
the 1600s when the Mayflower landed in a Pennsylvania town called Plymouth. Thanksgiving
Day is also about giving thanks for having good friends, spending quality time with
families, and a lot of football, especially when they're watching the Dallas Cowboys play
against another NFL football team. What's the favorite part when it comes to Thanksgiving
Day is when a lot of families and friends gather around for dinner and stuff. What's also
our favorite part of Thanksgiving most of all is the food, especially the turkey and the
stuffing. And let's not forget the cranberry sauce and the casseroles. Talking about
Thanksgiving food makes a person. But the important thing about Thanksgiving Day is when
everybody's gathered around for the reading of the Holy Bible: the King James version. And
if it weren't for Thanksgiving Day and had the Pilgrims not found Plymouth, Pennsylvania,
there wouldn't be a Thanksgiving Day and traditional football games. Let's hope we don't
consume too much food.
Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011
AN ODE TO THANKSGIVING
‘twas the night of Thanksgiving
and all through the feast
not a creature was stirring
not even a beast
The turkey was laid on the table with care
in the hopes that Melissa and Kaitlyn
would soon be there.
They feasted and feasted
‘till their bellies were full
when all of a sudden
a noise came from a hole
A mouse who was quite small came up
out of that hole in the wall
It squeaked and squeaked
and gave such a fright
that they ran away screaming
into the night
But then all of the sudden
there came a big clatter
as the mouse was scrambling
upon the fruit platter
“Wait’ it said, “I’m just like you”
“I would love to be your friend too!”
Melissa and Kaitlyn squealed with delight
as they picked up the mouse
and ran from the sight
They ran through the feast
and then through the kitchen
when all of the sudden
the mouse started ‘twitchen
“Wait!” said the mouse,
“I heard a noise:
I think it was because of those very large boys-
the boys who are eating Chips Ahoy!”
Melissa and Kaitlyn turned in disgust
thinking that those boys were nuts
“How odd!” said the mouse
“that they should have a part-y
and forget to invite you and me!”
So they went and stole a chip
from the bag that was resting on his hip.
But when they ran back to the feast
they ran right into that big old beast.
“Stop!” the beast said
“or I’ll knock off your head,”
“hand me that bag and you be alright.”
“just as long as you get out of my sight.”
They gave him the bag and ran right away
To go take their leave, down to the stock of hay.
It had been a long day
so they slept in the hay
and dreamt sweetly
of their Thanksgiving Day.
Copyright © Melissa Clifford Angus | Year Posted 2006
In the lovely Campanian countryside, amid
verdant hills and mountains...where Virgil
stopped to rest,while jeourneying to visit Cybele's temple,
lie a fertile valley where chestnut and walnut trees
abound...there is hidden the bustling town of my birth!
Narrow streets overlooked by bell towers,
and whenever the sturdy bronze bells ring
in the fragrant air of early spring:
young and old from windows and balconies,
in the twelfth hour, engage
in the sweet thanksgiving prayer...
while the tricolor flags sway in the warmest breeze!
The town's friendly people will welcome you with song,
untill you feel wonderful and touched by all;
this town has seen invasion, pestilences and a dire year...
an almost fatal hurricane that prevented a fierce battle
from being fought during World War II;
was Divine Intervention a factor to be acknowledged?
It spared this town being bombarded by air,
and it saved my mother's life to tell this truth!
God blessed this unknown place,
and sent Mary with the infant Jesus,
four days after He was born,
on a long jeourney through that valley
filled with peace and beauty:
to find a revered and holy mountain...
much closer to Heaven!
And She shed many tears
to give all the dull flowers
a brilliance of their own!
Deep in the hills there was a very special place I choose,
where I would rever the magnificence of the valley...
revealing a superb panorama with the Vesuvius in sight,
was there another creation as magnificent as that ?
And that owesome view perked up my inspiration inside,
teaching my tiny fingers to write with a human heart!
O Baiano, don't strip this name from your walls and stones:
I am a forgotten native who will return before he'll die!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2007
I came upon a Thanksgiving night
With a GOBBLE of presents in my hand
Even though it is not yet SANTA
November 23 is fine to celebrate both at one time
The gift of Sharing is indeed mine to hand nice
Before we say grace and have Turkey & rice
Mother is here,cooking up the sauce
Father,nearly ready..to cut that delicious Meat
The World upon a Thanksgiving Meal
Wandering but Wondering..When will the
homeless receive their fair share,a deal
They are strangers yet are part of our family
To cherish as honest and bright
Come into our home on this Thanksgiving delight
Copyright © Bart Jonas | Year Posted 2006