Thankfulness

A cup of tea,
A crust of bread,
A sheltering roof
Over my head.
A bright, warm room
And four strong walls,
A place to stay
When snowflakes fall.
A cracking fire,
Good books to read,
A dog to pet,
And birds to feed.
Wit God's sweet love
And Word divine,
I've all I need
To fill my time.
O bless this humble home,
Dear Lord,
And keep me faithful in
Your Word.
Let me rest in peaceful grace
Until I meet You face to face.

~ Joy Dunning

Thank You, Lord

For my new home,
Warm and neat.
For my church
On the next street.
For my family,
Loving and caring.
For dear friends,
Helpful and sharing.
For Your Word,
Sacred and true.
For forgiveness,
Ever new.
For my faith,
Growing still.
For life and health,
As You will.
Amen.

~ Lillian Nau

After Thanksgiving

The mighty bird's a shambles,

Its bones picked clean and bare.

What's left of Mamma's homemade pies

Is sealed in Tupperware.

The table in the dining room

Will never be the same;

A leg is bent, one leaf's askew,

It groans, remembering.

Because of Mom's expenditures

Dad says we're close to broke.

It would appear the festive air

Has gone right up in smoke.

The family pets have slunked way

The children ceased their pranks.

In short the household's tuckered out

From all that "giving thanks!"

~ Joyce Klatt

Homecoming

Here lies the glory of the golden past -
Old scenes grown dim are shining bright again.
The goodness of the land shall always last,
Renewing faith through April's warm soft rain.
Once on this ground you soon forget each care,
For time holds back the hurried moments now,
As friends of long ago have come to share
The joys founds here that have remained, somehow.

This day will linger on to weave new hopes
As flute-like wind that lulls the heart to sing,
And prays now offered on these hillside slopes
Will live in memory of olden bells that ring.
May we who walk familiar paths today
Keep ever onward in the upward way.

~ May Smith White

Gratitude is the Fairest Blossom

Gratitude is the fairest blossom
which springs from the soul.

~ Henry Ward Beecher

Thankfulness is the Beginning of Gratitude

Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude.
Gratitude is the completing of thankfulness.
Thankfulness may consist merely of words.
Gratitude is shown in acts.

~ Henri-Frederic Amiel

When it Comes to Life

When it comes to life, the critical thing is whether you
take things for granted or take them with gratitude.

~ G. K. Chesterton

Give Exceeding Thanks

Give exceeding thanks  for the mystery which remains a

mystery still -- the  veil that hides you from the infinite, which

makes it possible for you to believe in what you cannot see.

~ Robert Nathan

Two Kinds of Gratitude

Two kinds of gratitude: the sudden kind

we feel for what we take, the larger kind

we feel for what we give.

~ Edwin Arlington Robinson

Seeing Our Father in Everything

Seeing our Father in everything makes life one

long thanksgiving and gives rest of the heart.

~ Hannah Whitall Smith

Happiness Cannot Be Traveled To

Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned,

earned, worn, or consumed. Happiness is the

spiritual experience of living every minute

with love, grace, and gratitude.

~ Denis Waitley

I Would Maintain

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought,

and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.

~ G. K. Chesterson

I Thank You God

I thank You God for this most amazing

day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

~ e.e. cummings

Gratitude is Not Only the Greatest

Gratitude is not only the greatest of

virtues, but the parent of all others.

~ Cicero

Gratitude is Born in Hearts

Gratitude is born in hearts that take

time to count up past mercies.

~ Charles E. Jefferson

Autumn's Gold

Wild geese chase dramatic skies 

Of orange and blue clouds drifting by, 

As softened sun casts gentle glow 

On amber-colored earth below. 

They herald change of mood and land 

From carpet green to brown and tan. 

The dusky smell of mulching ground 

Grants fragrance where no flowers are found. 

Amid the sound of skittering leaves 

Tripping and turning on chilly breeze, 

The trees show introspective ways 

And lose their leaves for harsher days. 

Their cycle done, their task complete, 

They may now rest in silent sleep. 

Withdrawing inward, life is saved, 

While on the outside bright displays 

Of crowded colors of fiery blaze 

Melt in moonlight's harvest haze. 

Crispy cold are nights and days 

That take the breath away. 

Other seasons fail to show 

God's glory in such earthly tones, 

And heaven's lanes are lined, we're told, 

With rarest gems and autumn's gold.

~ Sheila Gagen

A Painter Passing Through

Who tinged the autumn fields enframed

‘Tween walls of ashen stone

Embowered by flush ivy skeins

Of red and dusty rose?

Who daubed the stately forest and

Illumined hardwood trees

With strokes of dazzling yellow orange

To crown a masterpiece?

Who toned the millpond’s rippling face

With blends of fallen leaves?

A palette mixed in readiness

To primp the fall motif.

For autumn is a season rife

With colorful milieus

So skillfully attended by

A painter passing through.

~ Lon Myruski

Perspective

I sit in a reflective mood

Beneath a giant chestnut tree

And remember the boy in me

Who gathered nuts so long ago

And climbed these darkened, sturdy limbs

To guide a pirate ship ashore

Or let loose with his Tarzan friend.

Now, gazing up at its branches,

I contemplate how old it is,

The beauty of its symmetry,

The peace it conjures up in me,

Ad how much it has marked the years

Both in this place and heart and mind.

~ Neil C. Fitzgerald

A Little Spray of Bittersweet

Along with a spray of bittersweet
Came vistas of winding country lane,
Came call of quail, came scent of pine,
And quiet fall of autumn rain.
Came mem'ries of children gath'ring nuts
In the glow of sun on nut-brown eaves
Or lost in curling fingers of fog
That wrapped round fences and tall pine trees.

Came apple orchards -- a paradise
Of jewels, gold and red and green,
Of cornfields towed with thick, dark sheaves
And yellow pumpkins for halloween.
Came shouts of glee on winter nights
When children laughed at popping corn,
And chilling frost on bare, brown feet
Through stubble-field in early  morn.

A saucy chipmunk twirls his tail
And scampers off among the rocks.
A lonely shagbark on a hill
Provides a rendezvous for flocks
Of feathered folk who gather there
En route to greener, sunnier clime.
The first snowballs on naked tree
Surrenders the last leaf on the vine.

And through the amethystine haze
Peer faces that were dear and sweet,
Call voices of the long ago
Through a little spray of bittersweet.

~ Clare Rhine

God's Gift of Autumn Days

Lovely leaves in splendor robed 

Adorn the autumn bough; 

God's beauty so reflected in 

The passing things of now. 

The reds,the golds,each heavenly hue. 

With wonder we behold; 

And see in them the great I Am

Who formed the world of old. 

Then give to the Eternal One 

Some fitting hymn of praise

To thank Him for His glorious gift 

Of golden autumn days. 

~ George R. Kossik

Merry Autumn

It's all a farce, these tales they tell

About the breezes sighing,

And moans astir o'er field and dell

Because the year is dying.

Such principles are most absurd, 

I care not who first taught 'em;

There's nothing known to beast or bird

To make a solemn autumn.

In solemn times, when grief holds sway

With countenance distressing,

You'll note the more of black and gray

Will then be used in dressing.

Now purple tints are all around;

The sky is blue and mellow;

And e'en the grasses turn the ground

From modest green to yellow.

The seed burrs all with laughter crack

On featherweed and jimson;

And leaves that should be dressed in black

Are all decked out in crimson.

A butterfly goes winging by;

A singing bird comes after;

And nature, all from earth to sky,

Is bubbling o'er with laughter.

The ripples wimple on the rills,

Like sparkling little lasses;

The sunlight runs along the hills

And laughs among the grasses.

The earth is just so full of fun

It really can't contain it;

And streams of mirth so freely run

The heavens seem to rain it.

Don't talk to me of solemn days

In autumn's time of splendor,

Because the sun shows fewer rays,

And these grow slant and slender.

Why, it's the climax of the year --

The highest time of living!

Till naturally its bursting cheer

Just melts into thanksgiving. 

~ Paul Laurence Dunbar

Autumn Abounds in Things

Autumn abounds in things to delight the

senses and the spirit.  Trees flaunt a lavishness of

color.  Fruit ripens and mellows for the

eating.  The harvest of the year's endeavors

has come... It is time to enjoy and to share

the abundance that is ours.

~ Esther York Burkholder

When Autumn Days Are Here

I count my blessings one by one,

Whate'er the time of year,

And yet it seems I count them more

When Autumn days are here --

The nearby fields of ripened grain,

The harvest gathered in,

Rich bounty from the hand of God

To bless our land again.

I lift my eyes to Autumn hills

Of flaming red and gold --

A picture only God could paint,

So splendorous to behold.

The gentle hush upon the land,

Wild geese in southward flight,

The harvest moon hanging low,

A giant lantern bright --

I count my blessings one by one.

I'm thankful for them all,

And still it seems I count them more

When comes the season fall.

~ Kay Hoffman

October

Bright and beautiful art thou, 

Autumn flowers crown thy brow: 

Golden-rod and aster blue, 

Russet leaf with crimson hue. 

Half-stripped branches waving by, 

Softly as a lullaby, 

Tell of summer's days gone by, 

Tell that winter's very nigh. 

In the forest cool and chill, 

Sadly moans the whippoorwill, 

(Not as in the summer days, 

When he gloried in his lays) -- 

Lower toned, but sweet and clear, 

Like thy crisp and fragrant air, 

Warbling forth with voice sublime.

This is nature's harvest time. 

Crickets chirp amid the leaves; 

Squirrels hop among the trees;

Brown nuts falling thick and fast, 

On the dewy, dying grass;

Glowing sun with softer rays, 

Harbinger of wintry days, 

Tell the year is going by, 

Sighing forth its lullaby.

` Mary Weston Fordham

Friendship

Time sifts our friendship and our friends,

For time alone can be the test.

And within the passing of the years,

We lose the false and keep the best.

And when, beyond the distant hills,

The golden sun of life descends --

We find God's greatest gift has been

The love of true and faithful friends.

~ Patience Strong

Sacrament of Solitude

Let us go far away from manmade things,
Beyond the reach of every fretful cry,
And look upon the miracle of wings,
Glory of autumn trees, and burnished sky.

The fragile aster, with its wondering orb
Of blue, uplifted bravely to the frost,
Shall be a star of hope against the drab
Of dull gray twilights, when the way seems lost.

And bittersweet, in scarlet clusters hung
Upon some ancient wall of crumbling stone,
Shall flame, banner of high courage flung
To winter's challenge, that we make our own.

Here we shall find a moment's respite where
No manmade touch may mar, no voice intrude,
And, shrived of all our little irking care,
Drink deep God's sacrament of solitude.

~ Jessie Wilmore Murton

Unheralded

Unheralded, in sweeping tides,

The court of goldenrod arrives.

Along the roadsides, up the lanes,

It conquers land, then lays claim

To vases, jugs and windowsills,

Full flowering as it spills

Into the heart, takes full command

When crowning a small child's hand.

~ Lillie D. Chaffin

To the Goldenrod

Thou tiny spark amid the green
That bearest still the sunlight's sheen,
That, glowing near the pasture rail,
Gives all the field a golden veil.

Thou comest not when daffodils
Blow lightly over Bluegrass hills,
Or honeysuckle, climbing high,
Reveals a longing for the sky.

Thou waitest till September's chill
Has touched the valley and the hil,
Till trees forsake their summer hue
And autumn paints the world anew.

Then doth thy lamp of lucent flame
Illumine earth from where thou came,
Gold-gold-as if thy tiny heart
Contained of every sun a part.

I would that thus beside life's road
Some traveller, bent beneath his load,
Might glimpse, like thine own taper lit,
My life to brighten earth a bit.

~ Alice Kennelly Roberts

Autumn Joys

Oh, hear the rustling poplar trees,

Feel autumn's tantalizing breeze,

See the yonder hillside slope

With sassafras kaleidoscope.

Taste the purple grape so sweet

And savor long an apple treat.

Listen to the raucous geese

Giving up their northern lease,

Smell the pungency of mums,

Gather baskets full of plums.

Tie and save some herbs and dill,

Put a gourd upon a sill.

Bring the harvest bounty in,

Stock and pile each storage bin.

Just enjoy the great mystique

Of wondrous autumn, so unique.

~ Virginia Boorman Grimmer

Gifts of Autumn

Autumn brings us misty mornings

With a crispness in the air,

Sapphire blue skies shining brightly,

And a brilliance everywhere.

Autumn brings us painted hillsides

With their foliage all ablaze --

Reds and yellow, scarlet, amber

set against a purple haze.

Autumn brings us crimson maples,

Aspens that are gowned in gold,

Evergreens that lend their color -- 

All a beauty to behold!

Autumn brings us mums and asters,

Goldenrod and cattails tall,

Frosty evenings, warmth of fireside,

Full moon that gold-glimmers all.

Autumn brings us fruitful harvest,

Blessings with each day unfolding --

Gifts from God all gracious hand.

~ Beverly J. Anderson

The Apple Tree

When an apple tree is ready for the world 

to come and eat,

There isn't any structure in the land 

that's got it beat.

There's nothing man has builded 

with the beauty or the charm

That can touch the simple grandeur 

of the monarch of the farm.

There's never any picture 

from a human being's brush

That has ever caught the redness 

of a single apple's blush.

When an apple tree's in blossom 

it is glorious to see,

But that's just a hint, at springtime, 

of the better things to be;

That is just a fairy promise 

from the Great Magician's wand

Of the wonders and the splendors 

that are waiting just beyond

The distant edge of summer; 

just a forecast of the treat

When the apple tree is ready for the world

to come and eat.

Architects of splendid vision long have labored

on the earth,

And have raised their dreams in marble 

and we've marveled at their worth;

Long the spires of costly churches have looked

upward at the sky;

Rich in promise and in the beauty, 

they have cheered the passer-by.

But I'm sure there's nothing finer 

for the eye of man to meet

Than an apple tree that's ready for the world

to come and eat.

There's the promise of the apples, 

red and gleaming in the sun,

Like the medals worn by mortals 

as rewards for labors done;

And the big arms stretched wide open, 

with a welcome warm and true

In a way that sets you thinking 

it's intended just for you.

There is nothing with a beauty 

so entrancing, so complete,

As an apple tree that's ready 

for the world to come and eat.

~ Edgar A. Guest