Glory
A Time for Thanksgiving

The wind flurries, it scurries, 
It blows all around,
The leaves of Autumn , 
Through city and town.

People rushing, and laughing, 
Package buying, 
and parcel wrapping.

'Tis Holiday season,
'Tis time to be singing, 
A time of Celebration,
A time for Thanksgiving!


Wasser B. Maus
A Harvest Poem

cranberries, blackberries, red raspberries and seeds,
oats and barely thrashed, never mind the weeds,
crates full of walnuts both english and black,
wheat ground fine and sifted into the sack,
rhubarbs both in family and blended in a pie,
leaves all fallen, snow threatening from the sky,
now ponds starting to freeze, children hoping a lot,
pumpkins and Apples served baked and piping hot,
horses barned and feed their grain,
wagons stored as tractors putt down the lane,
heavy doors bolted secure, windows closed tight,
heavenly aromas flowing out after the light
this harvest it is finished as if in a dream,
now all the berries and pies can be doused in cream,
spirits and tummies so full not another bite passes the lip,
not even one teeny tiny <drooldrip>!


SperaPM
Harvest Time

Harvest time is here,
Bringing food and cheer,
See the farmers in the fields,
Working hard for shelves to fill.
Food in Stores
And food on plate,
From fields we grow,
and then we bake
Harvest time is here at last
To fill our Thanksgiving Repast