With Thanksgiving
Autumn hues of
gold-brown-rust,
the turn of seasons.
The bounty of gifts
to reason.
We harvest the bounty
of due fields.
Gather with family
to bless and love.
In Your richness,
we become enriched.
Your love shines down
as you take your place
the head of each thanksgiving
table.
Grace given with
hearts full of Thanksgiving.
Come Lord Jesus and bless
this day.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.