To all my friends
Give Thanks
Geese fly south out of concern,
pumpkins are pick to make the pie.
The fields have the winter turn,
cornstalks now bleak like the sky.
Give thanks for what we grow,
this time of year, a boast.
When hard work will show,
pick the big one to roast.
Family from far and near,
food piled on the plate.
A thankful praise we hear,
for he who creates.
What a moment to be living.
A memory to be,
one that I will always see.
Having a happy Thanksgiving.
By
© Easy-LSM
Geese fly south out of concern,
pumpkins are pick to make the pie.
The fields have the winter turn,
cornstalks now bleak like the sky.
Give thanks for what we grow,
this time of year, a boast.
When hard work will show,
pick the big one to roast.
Family from far and near,
food piled on the plate.
A thankful praise we hear,
for he who creates.
What a moment to be living.
A memory to be,
one that I will always see.
Having a happy Thanksgiving.
By
© Easy-LSM
