Thanksgiving Poems — Week 1

Thanksgiving in the U. S.  is exactly three weeks from today, so I think it’s only appropriate that I revisit some of my Thanksgiving poems from over the years — and maybe even write a new one.

This week I’ll begin the series with two: one quite serious and one just for fun. Hope you enjoy them, and if you’re one of my own countrymen, I hope they add to your expectations for a happy Thanksgiving celebration.

 

AH, THANKSGIVING, HOW I LOVE YOU!

RED DRESS

Ah, Thanksgiving, how I love you!
Golden crowning jewel of Fall,
Beacon of warmth and cam’raderie,
Sending glad invitation to all:

“Gather to worship; gather to visit;
Gather to focus on all that’s worthwhile;
Feast from tables resplendent with harvest;
Feast on the love in a touch and a smile.”

All the year’s labors weigh heavy upon us.
All the world’s problems seem bigger by far.
But out from that wearisome struggle you call us,
And laying it down, we run to where you are.

And whether in cottages, mansions, or churches,
Community buildings, or tables in parks,
We gather with gratitude full – overflowing;
To the Giver of blessings lift voices and hearts.

Then we return to life’s pattern awaiting.
Filled up with joy, we set off on our way,
Warmer and richer and kinder in spirit
For pausing to celebrate Thanksgiving Day.


♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥


WHAT’S FOR DINNER?

TURKEY WITH SIGN - SAVE TURKEYS

I spot him there, behind the barn,
A full-plumed, regal bird.
He looks up, straight into my eyes.
I speak no single word.

It’s happened thus, in passing years —
At least for two or three:
Each mid-November I’ve set my mind;
He’s been there to greet me.

Now, lifting his head in challenge strong,
He gobbles loud and long.
I lower my gun and heave a sigh:
To kill him would be wrong!

So, wrestling with my double mind,
I trek home to my wife
To explain why, once again this year,
Ham will greet the carving knife.


♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦


 

Two Cinquain Just For Fun

I haven’t written any cinquain in several months. That’s not like me at all, so I decided I’d remedy that situation today and write two.

 

ZENIA GARDEN
http://www.photos-public-domain.com

Faulty Garden

Zenias
I planted some,
And nice green stems came up.
But months have passed and still no blooms.
What’s wrong???


 

AUGUST CALENDAR Gerd Altman
Gerd Altman @ pixabay.com

Closing In On Christmas

August
Has come so fast.
This year is flying by.
But I don’t mind, for Christmas then
Is close.

~~~

~~~

 


 

House of Flawed Flowers — Friday Fictioneers 6/5/19

I haven’t played “Friday Fictioneers” in a long time, but today when I saw the picture I couldn’t help myself. I take no responsibility for the subject matter. It was the jacket hanging on the end of the banister that did it. Honestly — I couldn’t help it.  🙂  And the weirdest thing is that it came out at exactly 99 words without any editing. Go figure.

Here’s the picture prompt courtesy of Ceayr

ceayr-3

HOUSE OF FLAWED FLOWERS

It was a unique little operation. Nothing like the “red-light” districts Derek had been used to. No money actually changed hands here. Men who used the service hung their jackets on the end of the stair banister with the fee in the pocket. Once they were ensconced upstairs, Madam Beatrice relieved the jacket of its contents, and replaced it for the client to retrieve when finished. She even included an innocuous receipt for tax purposes: “One House Special – $100.” Derek had a desk drawer full of those receipts, but he couldn’t use them. His wife was his accountant.

 

 


 

Think Pink

This poem is part of my “Color Me Happy” series on my poetry site. I thought readers here might enjoy it as well.

 


When you feel your emotions are starting to sink,
Think pink.
When you’re fed up with politics and all the stink,
Think pink.
When you’re so mad your panties are all in a kink,
Think pink.
When losing your sanity’s just on the brink,
Think pink.

And why should you choose such a color, you ask?
Because when we choose in pink’s color to bask,
We’re cuddled and coddled in this pleasant shade.
It pampers and pets us and makes our hearts glad.

God, in His infinite wisdom did choose
Pink as a color important to use
When bringing the dawn of a new day alive
And when setting the sun to usher in night.

There’s something quite primal in pink I have found —
Something so elemental it’s almost profound.
We respond as if there’s an umbilical link.
So whatever the problem — to fix it, think pink.

 

 

 


 

Let’s Talk Coffee – Day 6

COFFEE CARRY-OUT CUPS -- Verbera -- PX

JOE ON THE GO

Carry-out coffee is one of the greatest inventions of the human race. Okay, maybe that’s a little over-the-top where praise is concerned, but for people in the 21st century who have to be on the move for 12 to 15 hours of every 24, it’s a genuine blessing.

Note of interest: I’ve often wondered by coffee is sometimes referred to by the nickname “Joe.” There are several theories out there, but the one that seems to me to be the best substantiated is the one concerning former Secretary of the Navy, Josephus Daniels. Here’s the link to that story:  “Why Coffee Is Called ‘Joe.'”

 


graphic courtesy of Verbera @ pixabay.com

 

 

 


 

Let’s Talk Coffee – Day 2

POURING COFFEE - nathan-dumlao-607604-unsplash -- Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

 

CHECKLIST FOR THE PERFECT HUSBAND

1.  Must love coffee

2.  Must be able to brew a great pot of coffee

3.  Who cares? If he’s nailed the first two, he’s bound to get everything else right.

COFFEE - YELLOW SMILEY -- Hans PX

`

 


photo courtesy of Nathan Dumlao at Unsplash

 

 


 

Oooops, NaPoWriMo Slipped Up On Me

APRIL 1ST -- Alexas_Fotos -- PX
Alexas_Foto@ Pixabay.com

 

A Poet Must Do What a Poet Must Do

I’m not ready for NaPoWriMo.
I should create some kind of verse.
And I’d better get onto it pronto:
It’s already April the first.

A poem with some kind of meaning
Is not always easy to write.
So I’ll just have to settle for something
That’s simple, perhaps even trite.

A jingle with sing-songy wording,
A love poem packed with cliches,
A limerick rolling with laughter —
One a day for the next thirty days!

Well, I can’t sit here just ruminating.
I’m a poet, and my duty’s clear:
NaPoWriMo has issued the challenge,
So I’ll start with this poem right here.

 


For the sake of full disclosure, I will say right now that I do not have any plans to write a new poem every day during the month of April. My work schedule will simply not allow for that amount of added writing this month. But I was feeling giddy about 1:00 this morning, and I figured I’d at least write one little ditty to kick off NaPoWriMo, 2019.


 

The Foot Test

In honor of this month of love, I thought I’d close it out with a jewel from my poetry archives — a piece I wrote several years ago for a NAPOWRIMO challenge to write a poem about love without using any of the hearts, flowers, cupids, or cliches normally attached to the sentiment. I had totally forgotten about writing this piece until I was wandering idly through my archives this week and spotted it. So for those of you who are looking for a way to determine whether what you’re experiencing is true love or not, maybe this little poem can be of help.


FEET, CLKER.COM 2 - credits

I know is this old world, it’s sad, but true:
Emotional relationships can fail.
And marriages, though formerly ’til death,
Now change as fast as color on the nails.

But I’m convinced our troth will still endure.
I’m sure of you as you are sure of me.
I know because we’re comfortable together
When on the same footstool we prop our feet.

What better test of faithfulness and trust,
Than doffing shoes and bravely baring toes.
Our feet look comfy, happy, and complete,
And for commitment’s sake we hold our nose.

 

~~~
photo: clker.com

 

 


 

Nursery Nonsense Continues

Haven’t posted anything new in a while, and today I decided to make myself write. Unfortunately, when I sat down to the keyboard, the only thing that would stick in my mind were the first-line words of a centuries old nursery rhyme. Well, why not, I thought. And here’s the slightly embarrassing result. But it was sort of fun.

HEY DIDDLE ILLUSTRATION -- GUTENBURG PROJECT

The Gutenberg Project – http://www.gutenberg.org/

 

Nursery Nonsense Continues

“Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle;
The cow jumped over the moon.”
I remember it well
This nursery rhyme swell,
And its sing-songy poetry tune.

But I’ve scratched at my head
Wondering, when all that’s said,
What on earth can it possibly mean?
Doggy barks in dismay;
Dish and spoon run away,
But no value or sense can I glean.

Well, hey, diddle, diddle,
It matters so little
That no reason comes in this rhyme.
For centuries now
It has cheered us somehow,
And will do so through eons of time.

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