Best Thanks Poems
Give thanks if you're healthy
And give thanks if you're not;
Make sure to appreciate
Whatever it is that you've got.
Just be grateful, my dear,
Give thanks with good cheer.
Give thanks if you're single,
Give thanks if you're married;
Doesn't matter at all
If you're happy or harried.
Just be grateful, my dear,
Give thanks with good cheer.
Give thanks for jobs you've had,
And for ones that you've lost;
For the roof o'er your head,
And your warm, cozy bed.
Just be grateful, my dear,
Give thanks with good cheer
Give thanks for your wardrobe,
For the clothes in your drawer;
For the shoes on your feet
And those in the store.
Give thanks for the cop
Who tickets your car,
Or prevents you from drinking
Too much at the bar.
Just be grateful, my dear,
And give thanks with good cheer.
Give thanks to G-d
Who put you on Earth,
Who blessed you and your mother
With the miracle called birth.
Who awakens you in the morning
And lays you to sleep at night;
Who believes all through the airyness,
That you'll soon see His Light.
Yes: Just be grateful, my dear,
Now that Thanksgiving is here.
December 28, 2017
Your first poem on Poetry Soup Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
=================================
A thing of beauty on her wrist
was confiscated by a nurse
who looked for items soldiers missed
in places (and by means) much worse.
They branded her inside the camp,
a thing of beauty on her wrist
replaced by Hitler's horrid stamp,
a stinging band below her fist.
With teeming glee, Frau nurse had hissed,
"Thank me that you won't see the baths"
A thing of beauty on HER wrist
the gleaming fee of psychopaths
Now, she who bears the mark of war
lives free and wears her scar not with
remorse. It's more, at eighty-four,
a thing of beauty on her wrist...
========================
What Matters Most
What matters most is obvious to me.
It’s hearth and home, kin and family.
Life is an hourglass and the sands
of your time keep drifting down -
drifting, drifting, drifting
downward as you race
to get in all
the things you
want to
do!
But
take time
to breathe in
the things you love:
fresh baked bread, roses,
the petrichor of spring!
Simple are life’s joys. Give all
you love to all those you love, for
that will be your legacy when your
sands run out and the hourglass turns over.
April 1, 2020
for Chantelle Anne Cooke's "What Matters the Most to You" Poetry contest
You found me a broken soul
You didn’t need to know my past
You just lifted me and carried me away
Your gentle touch assured me I was safe
Your soothing voice was most comforting
Your tenderness was the validation of the
possibility I have a chance to make it
I couldn’t bring myself to look into your eyes
I was too afraid to open my eyes
In my confusion thoughts you were an Angel
Perhaps you’re here to take me up to Heaven
Away from the pain and ugliness that’s breaking me down to pieces
And in my broken heart I felt your spark of hope
You didn’t need to ask me for anything
Seeing and understanding who I was
You went about your way and cared for me
You healed me
You filled me with hope
You gave me a validation there’s much to live for
Now I can look into your eyes
My heart embraces you
I’m smiling for you
And
I suppose I owe you a million of thanks
Akkina
8/8/23
POTD 8/10/23
Hello poets, been a bit.
For sunsets that can make me sigh;
for all your candy for the eye -
each mountain, forest, lake or shore.
I Praise you, God, for gifts galore.
For all my friends and family;
for everyone who’s there for me;
for those with goodness at their core.
I praise you, God, for gifts galore.
For sciences and for the arts;
for all the things that touch our hearts.
You always give us more and more!
I praise you, God, for gifts galore.
Dec. 30, 2019
Used now for Anthony Biaanco's 'Gifts' Poetry Contest
I’m grateful for the sun
which shone on younger days
The days of scurried heartbeats
and butterflies of love
And for the carefree hearts
on beaches of my youth
The nights of clothes and cars
and bars of clubbing beats
I’m grateful for the sun
which lights the memories
of newlyweds with king sized beds
and never-ending dreams
And for all the glory days
I’ve lived and loved, gone by
Yet, as I know sun still
I’m grateful for the glory days of now
Thank you, God
For the gentle whisper
Of a breeze against my cheek
~
Thank you, God
For the soft reflection
Seen in a graceful moving stream
~
Thank you, God
For the sense of peace
Discovered within the forest
~
Thank you, God
For the scenic sunrise
Warming sundrenched skin
~
Thank you, God
For the twilight moon
Bidding my heart inspiration
~
Thank you, God
For the simple pleasures
That are found in nature’s wonders
~
Thank you, God
For giving me a spirit
That feels alive amid these treasures
~
Thank you, God
For sending me these gestures
That remind me of my many blessings
I’ve received an incredible gift
It has given my heart such a lift
But the date that I see
Is what now concerns me –
It’s the date I no longer exist!!!
Today I was gifted a 'lifetime' premium membership but it is somewhat disconcerting to see it ends on 3/20/2077. I hope TPS aren't psychic!!!!
My mother's great great aunt lived to 111 and 121 days and was in the Guinness book of records - I hope I am around a long long time to make full use of this incredible gift.
14th October 2016
On day full of doom and gloom
With no strength to leave my room
With no hope to look towards light
With darkness closing in at night
I remember…..
When my heart floods with despair
Burdened by my load of care
When the rose has but a thorn
Wishing I were never born
I remember….
When no effort is worthwhile
On my face no trace of smile
When my heart does naught but weep
For a love I cannot keep
I remember….
I remember,
A kingdom in which I reign
Where I banish grief and pain
A kingdom where all is light
With rolling hills, verdant, bright
I tremble….
I smile, for I am a Queen
Only beauty can be seen
Fairies flutter to and fro
Peace and joy is all I know
I tremble….
Yes,
I tremble with sheer delight
My crown glows with heaven’s light
I am loved, and I am free
For a QUEEN resides in me
I remember!!!!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A poem dedicated to my friend, FLO Thomas, for her poem, The Kingdom of Ghali. I’m hiding away in my room, but the visit to this poem again, to this magical kingdom, brought a ray of light shining in. Love you, Flo! OXOXOXOXO I tease my family and friends that...I'm really a princess. I tell them, "Haven't you gotten that memo?" They all just laugh at me. Now...I have a wonderful comeback. "You won't even see the PRINCESS in me...on Poetry SOUP...I'm a QUEEN!!!!" Oh...the joy of virtual dreams!
Kindness goes a LONG LONG WAY!!!
What flowers do we most cherish?
Ones with such aroma they consume our senses,
as sweet purfumed, honeysuckle clad fences,
or those of brilliant hues springing boldly from the ground,
holding our eyes captive, as do pictures in clouds?
Which clouds do we most welcome?
Dreamy, soft ones of contrasting white,
sauntering seductively across baby blue skies,
or those billowing dark, mocking tidal waves at sea,
pouring life sustaining liquid to desert Joshua trees?
What trees are we most thankful for?
Bearers of fruit, so succulent and sweet;
releasing bundles of manna right at our feet,
or those with strong arms stretched over the dust,
lending cool somber shade; a resting haven for us?
Whish of us is the most beautiful?
Ones with perfect features to gaze upon,
as earthly angels dancing round kings thrones,
or those who cherish friends, and have learned life's lessons;
welcomed opportunities to give, and been thankful for blessings?
The child stands valorous before the door
With nary a tinge of fear or dread.
Armed with a spatula and a pancake flipper...
She wears a stewing pot on her head.
Her hands are protected by leather gloves
With her Father's boots to guard her feet.
Her swimming goggles are securely placed
And beneath her shirt... a cookie sheet.
With a determined sigh she cracks the door
And peers suspiciously through the night.
She momentarily thought the coming battle
May be best done in the bask of morning light.
But time was short and with each passing hour...
Others would surely die.
So she begins her journey to confront this beast
Who has taken many lives.
She makes her way through the wretched gloom
Giving thought to her parent's fears.
She had never seen them so full of doubt
In all her seven years.
But the time had come to join the fight...
To aid those who gave protection.
And she was well aware of its woeful lair
Where she would fight this damn infection.
A nurse stands wavering from a vengeful night
As another dozen deaths has left her cold.
But she then heard a voice so free of fear...
It brought a peaceful solace to her soul.
'I wonder if you would be so kind
To take this moment and give me some direction.
For I am stout and brave with pluck and daring
And will help defeat this cursed infection.'
The nurse's eyes welled up at such a sight
And a smile reached across her face.
As by her side now stood a child
Who would defend the human race.
So remember this when all is lost
And the best of us lose heart.
A unsung hero will rise to bring us hope
And inspire us all to do our part.
The End
We overthink the things we lose
but overlook the things we gain
ever mourning fire and flood
never praising gentle rain
We sidestep blessings every day
to favor troubles with our care
like little orphans left behind
our lonely blessings languish there
Days, months and years go by
and from our minds are never far
the memories of times and things
and people that no longer are
Images of things gone by
deep within our thought life swell
but we should never stay there long
for there we are not meant to dwell
Our eyes ought never be so cast
too far behind nor far ahead
that we lose sight of what's at hand
be thankful for what's here instead
Look around and you will see
your life is graced by lovely things
no reason for the past to long
no need to fly on desperate wings
If you should think on loved ones past
remember them with joy and laughter
but for those here with you today
spare not your love which they seek after
Loved ones gone would never ask
for you to stay among the dead
the good old days were sometimes bad
you had your share of tears to shed
Wisdom never comes with youth
it's learned through years and often pain
but once you have it then you'll see
not what you've lost, but what you've gained
Today I found you cornered, drenched in cold,
your fur coat nothing but a newborn's down,
a tiny ball unfolding while I hold
you shivering. Your lacerations frown
and at a distance, I can see the why
of your abandonment, the birds of prey.
I’ve saved you, but you’re causing me to cry:
serrated weapons, Nature’s passion-play,
as blood-attracted sharks, still circling, wait:
I sense the breath-starved fright that made you flee,
those teeth, those claws, you were their blameless bait.
You can’t yet comprehend that you are free.
I see the wounds, some healed, some raw and new,
they're deep, beyond the matted fur and skin.
Four little paws, so tender, sprawled askew,
I seem to feel that you and I are kin.
You mark each move. Mistrustful eyes, so green,
incapable of rest, stir to suggest
you'll try to bite if I will try to clean
the bloodclots, so I hug you to my chest.
You flinch to feel my cuddle. Have I planned
some fiendish way to torture you anew?
The tiny space your wretched life has spanned
has taught you only suffering is your due.
Careful now, I’ll wrap you in a cloth,
And whisper words you cannot comprehend.
Oh tiny one, you're no more than a moth!
It’s alright now. You’ve come across a friend.
Your warmth is blossoming against my breast.
I want to teach you gentleness and calm.
There’s nothing here to threaten you: so rest,
You’re safe now from anxiety and harm.
I'll guard you through the night until you sleep,
until the chesty wheezing eases up.
This is protectiveness, it's seated deep:
I’ll always help a vulnerable pup.
Your heart is racing hard against my hand,
awaiting pain, as wizened captives do.
Believe me, Little One, I understand.
For I have been a broken prisoner, too.
***
May 30, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Into blind rage he flew again
His neck veins bulged, his fists he closed
His wife could not remember when
She'd seen her man calm or composed
This time she screamed; she'd yelled out Stop!
Surprised and stunned, he lost his voice
Tempting fate, she'd ruled out cops
She prayed she'd made the wisest choice
His veins relaxed, his fists now hands
His voice returned, he told her thanks
She would not have to make demands
Resort to feline's cunning pranks
He managed to suppress his rage
Thanks to his wife, he turned the page
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
We pass by homeless on the street
They make me grateful for the roof above my head
Metatarsalgia in my feet makes me wince
How lucky I am that I can still walk
Although my feet hurt
I’m thankful the tumors in them are benign
How grateful I am not to worry how my money will be spent
Because I have none
Sure, my cholesterol is nearly 400
But I’m thankful that my heart still beats
Age has blurred my vision
Yet it’s a blessing to have eyes that still see most things
And ears to hear
Though people have to speak louder to me now
How grateful I am to have a voice
When there is someone who cares to listen
A sense of humor is one of God’s greatest gifts
Let's all show our appreciation
*August 31, 2020
For Francine’s “Attitude of Gratitude” contest