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Spring Thanksgiving Poems | Spring Poems About Thanksgiving

These Spring Thanksgiving poems are examples of Spring poems about Thanksgiving. These are the best examples of Spring Thanksgiving poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Haiku | |

SPRING HAIKU

morning quiet time
in nature's warm bosom found
sun kissed flowers shine













TRADITONAL HAIKU- POETRY CONTEST : 6th Place
12 March 2015
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi





Copyright © Kim Patrice Nunez

Details | Free verse | |

Now I Am Free from My Step-parent

A life of beauty and happiness denied, of innocence 
smothered like a flame, I have always lived; but when 
I hear your lovely voice, my Lisa--

now I am free.

I was dead before I even entered into this world, a
place cruel and without feeling, cruel and without 
the love and understanding I finally know in the rich 
harmonies of your voice, my Lisa--

which sets me free.

Before I could even hope to bloom like a sensual
flower caught breathless and naked in the first, rainy
sunbeams of spring a great evil--the threatening, 
inner hostility of a dark figure overflowing with 
bigotry--transformed me into a joyless 

waste of ashes.

From that terrible moment on I fought all the ugly
and horrible assaults as his unwilling possession, a
gladiator in the arena of his constant abuse and 
myriad threats, subject to his occasional hostile 
looks from 

across the dinner table.

But when I hear your voice and imagine its tender-
ness and compassion as an unearned gift meant for 
me despite him and my child-like self-loathing: 

I feel the love and self-worth denied me, taken from
me simply because it was too easy to not rape from 
a child whose only fault was that he was born 

defenseless and
white.

O Lisa! Because of the music of your lovely voice--
now I am free! Free from my years as a gladiator in 
the arena of his constant abuse and attacks; 

free to bloom like a sensual flower caught breathless
and naked in the first, rainy sunbeams 

of Spring again!

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen

Details | I do not know? | |

i do not sing(on this Thanksgiving spring)

i do not sing on this Thanksgiving spring
Wet
dreary
Lonely
The turkey is not on my table
No one is passing the cranberry
A silent gasp as the holidays pass
My voice is not up to the challenge 
Of trying to rejoice with sweet verses I cannot 
bring myself to interpret
Maybe,
This Christmas,
I repeat,
Maybe

Copyright © Bart Jonas