The Spirit of Thanksgiving We’ve made our Thanksgiving plans. Already I can see our feast, our heads all bowed for the blessing, can hear our chatter. As always we’ll reminisce, eat too much, rest and make our Christmas plans. The sweet sentiment of gratefulness apparent on Thanksgiving Day should always shine in our lives. "Count your many blessings. Name them one by one"-- wonderful words from a hymn for us all.
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The Spirit of Thanksgiving We’ve made our Thanksgiving plans. Already I can see our feast, our heads all bowed for the blessing, can hear our chatter. As always we’ll reminisce, eat too much, rest and make our Christmas plans. The sweet sentiment of gratefulness apparent on Thanksgiving Day should always shine in our lives. "Count your many blessings. Name them one by one"-- wonderful words from a hymn for us all. Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016
Content from PoetrySoup.com. Read more at:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_spirit_of_thanksgiving_849277
Copyright © PoetrySoup and Respective Poets.
The Spirit of Thanksgiving We’ve made our Thanksgiving plans. Already I can see our feast, our heads all bowed for the blessing, can hear our chatter. As always we’ll reminisce, eat too much, rest and make our Christmas plans. The sweet sentiment of gratefulness apparent on Thanksgiving Day should always shine in our lives. "Count your many blessings. Name them one by one"-- wonderful words from a hymn for us all. Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016
Content from PoetrySoup.com. Read more at:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_spirit_of_thanksgiving_849277
Copyright © PoetrySoup and Respective Poets.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving with family and friends. The Chamber office will close on Wednesday, November 23rd at 1pm and reopen Monday, November 28th at 9am.
Happy Thanksgiving! A few appropriately themed verses:
Thanksgiving Time
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| by Langston Hughes (1921) |
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When the night winds whistle through the trees and blow the crisp brown leaves a-crackling down,
When the autumn moon is big and yellow-orange and round,
When old Jack Frost is sparkling on the ground,
It’s Thanksgiving Time!
When the pantry jars are full of mince-meat and the shelves are laden with sweet spices for a cake,
When the butcher man sends up a turkey nice and fat to bake,
When the stores are crammed with everything ingenious cooks can make,
It’s Thanksgiving Time!
When the gales of coming winter outside your window howl,
When the air is sharp and cheery so it drives away your scowl,
When one’s appetite craves turkey and will have no other fowl,
It’s Thanksgiving Time!
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The Spirit of Thanksgiving We’ve made our Thanksgiving plans. Already I can see our feast, our heads all bowed for the blessing, can hear our chatter. As always we’ll reminisce, eat too much, rest and make our Christmas plans. The sweet sentiment of gratefulness apparent on Thanksgiving Day should always shine in our lives. "Count your many blessings. Name them one by one"-- wonderful words from a hymn for us all. Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016
Content from PoetrySoup.com. Read more at:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_spirit_of_thanksgiving_849277
Copyright © PoetrySoup and Respective Poets.
We’re Thankful For...
We’re thankful for the basics:
food, clothing and comfortable shelter;
the rest is a bountiful bonus.
We’re thankful for work, play,
and the treasured people
who make these experiences
richer and more meaningful.
We’re most thankful
for family and friends,
especially the dear friends
who are reading this!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Slant
If the angle of an eye is all,
the slant of hope, the slant of dreaming, according to each life,
what is the light of this city,
light of Lady Liberty, possessor of the most famous armpit in the world,
light of the lovers on Chinese soap operas, throwing BBQ’d ducks at each other
with that live-it-up-while-you’re-young, Woo Me kind of love,
light of the old men sitting on crates outside geegaw shops
selling dried seahorses & plastic Temples of Heaven,
light of the Ying ‘n’ Yang Junk Palace,
light of the Golden Phoenix Hair Salon, light of Wig-o-ramas,
light of the suntanners in Central Park turning over like rotisserie chickens sizzling on a spit,
light of the Pluck U & Gone with the Wings fried-chicken shops,
the parking-meter-leaners, the Glamazons,
the oglers wearing fern-wilting quantities of cologne, strutting, trash-talking, glorious:
the immigrants, the refugees, the peddlars, stockbrokers and janitors, stenographers and cooks,
all of us making and unmaking ourselves,
hurrying forwards, toward who we’ll become, one way only, one life only:
free in time but not from it,
here in the city the living make together, and make and unmake over and over
Quick, quick, ask heaven of it, of every mortal relation,
feeling that is fleeing,
for what would the heart be without a heaven to set it on?
I can’t help thinking no word will ever be as full of life as this world,
I can’t help thinking of thanks.
