Poetry Monday is lots of fun. Diane of On The Alberta Montana Border started it (you can find her in my sidebar) and she provides a weekly prompt in case we need one. Procrastinating Donkey joined in, as did I. We need more participants. Give it a shot. Poetry doesn’t need to rhyme you know. Just express yourself.
Todays’ prompt is THANKSGIVING.
Thanksgiving in the neighbourhood
All sitting down to plates of food
And giving thanks each in their way
On this beautiful, peaceful, Thanksgiving Day.
Jill and Tommy, Mom and Dad
Holding hands and feeling glad
For all that God has given them
Their words of praise ,a joyous hymn.
House by house the heavenly crowd
Listened to praises long and loud
That rose from each and every house
Except, for Mr. Blow’s, the louse.
Surrounded by family; man, woman and child
He rose from his chair, eyes staring and wild.
“Give thanks to ME he roared.
My efforts filled this festive board.”
Humbled, all did whisper, “thanks”
As from their hosts anger they shrank.
The angels shook their golden heads.
“He gives no praise for his daily bread.”
“This food remains unblessed”, they said
“Its value is as good as dead.”
But one small child shall save the day.
She dropped her head so she could pray.
Silence descended with a bang.
Soon every head began to hang.
“Bless this food oh Father dear
And bless the love that keeps us here.”
And Mr. Blow, his eyes grown dim
As he remembered a childhood hymn
gathered up the golden child
His air now penitent and mild.
“Let all be grateful for this bounty
Let all be grateful for the love.
He stood before them proud and tall
As a little child led them all.