Vintage postcard from my collection |
November
A lone gray goose flies overhead;
I hear its distant call.
The trees have lost their gold and red --
We're deep into the fall.
It's time to husk the Indian corn
To decorate the room --
To take the place of fresh-cut flowers
That now no longer bloom.
I've gathered in the last few squash;
The garden looks forlorn.
A rooster pheasant glides across
A field of rustling corn.
Our hearts are filled with thanks to God
For health and joy of living,
For beauty at this time of year,
For harvest and Thanksgiving.
~ Vivian Rice
How beautiful! What wonderful images and thankful thoughts it conjures up for me ... and I hope for you too.
It is a fine poem...evocative of the season. A blessed Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteThis actually reminds me very much of verse that Mr. T's father wrote. The family published an entire book of his poems, many of them about nature and the outdoors from a countryman's point of view.
ReplyDeleteA blessed Thanksgiving to you as well! Ours will be low-key and simple this year. We had our annual praise and Thanksgiving service at church tonight. For many years I have thought of that as the REAL Thanksgiving.