| 14 Thanksgiving Poems
A collection of short Thanksgiving Poems to share with others to remind everyone, including ourselves, to
count our blessings.
These Thanksgiving Poems are great to share around the Thanksgiving table with family and friends.
We have many blessings to be thankful for each and every day not only on Thanksgiving Day!
May you and your family have a blessed Thanksgiving!
-
A Thanksgiving
Poet: Wilhelmina Stitch
To each his song of thankfulness; each heart its song of praise;
and some will think of fertile fields, of golden wheat and maize;
and some will think of clinking gold, of solid pompous wealth;
and some will think of Love's high gift, and some will think of health.
But this my song of thankfulness, and this my song of praise—
thank God for all the friendly books, for every magic phrase;
for all the clever laughing books; for books that make one weep;
for books one reads to little folks that they may sweetly sleep.
To each his song of thankfulness; for me this song of praise—
thank God for all the lilting books, the rhythmic, glowing lays;
for all the rich romantic books; for books like gentle hands;
for books that take us on winged words to spirit-healing lands!
-
Fill Your Heart With Thanksgiving
Poet: Helen Steiner Rice
Take nothing for granted, for whenever you do
The "joy of enjoying" is lessened for you -
For we rob our own lives much more than we know
When we fail to respond or in any way show
Our thanks for the blessings that daily are ours . . .
The warmth of the sun, the fragrance of flowers,
The beauty of twilight, the freshness of dawn,
The coolness of dew on a green velvet lawn,
The kind little deeds so thoughtfully done,
The favors of friends and the love that someone
Unselfishly gives us in a myriad of ways,
Expecting no payment and no words of praise -
Oh, great is our loss when we no longer find
A thankful response to things of this kind,
For the joy of enjoying and the fullness of living
Are found in the heart that is filled with thanksgiving
-
Blessings
Poet: Patience Strong
We're very quick to voice complaints, and grumble with a frown,
If things go wrong and all our castles crash and tumble down.
We air our little grievances, when we come home at night -
And in that frame of mind you find that nothing turns out right...
If only we would make a list - a new one every day-
Of all the blessings we receive as we go on our way -
We'd never reach the end of it - you'd be surprised to find,
How many lovely little things would crowd into your mind....
God pours His blessings from about - but we're to blind to see -
And so we are the victims of our own stupidity...
We fret our little lives away - we week and doubt and grieve -
If only we would lift our hands and gratefully receive -
The blessings He bestows on us if we but watch and pray -
And look beyond the clouds to see the glory of each day.
-
Thanksgiving
Poet: Edgar A. Guest
Gettin' together to smile an' rejoice,
An' eatin' an' laughin' with folks of your choice;
An' kissin' the girls an' declarin' that they
Are growin more beautiful day after day;
Chattin' an' braggin' a bit with the men,
Buildin' the old family circle again;
Livin' the wholesome an' old-fashioned cheer,
Just for awhile at the end of the year.
Greetings fly fast as we crowd through the door
And under the old roof we gather once more
Just as we did when the youngsters were small;
Mother's a little bit grayer, that's all.
Father's a little bit older, but still
Ready to romp an' to laugh with a will.
Here we are back at the table again
Tellin' our stories as women an men.
Bowed are our heads for a moment in prayer;
Oh, but we're grateful an' glad to be there.
Home from the east land an' home from the west,
Home with the folks that are dearest an' best.
Out of the sham of the cities afar
We've come for a time to be just what we are.
Here we can talk of ourselves an' be frank,
Forgettin' position an' station an' rank.
Give me the end of the year an' its fun
When most of the plannin' an' toilin' is done;
Bring all the wanderers home to the nest,
Let me sit down with the ones I love best,
Hear the old voices still ringin' with song,
See the old faces unblemished by wrong,
See the old table with all of its chairs
An I'll put soul in my Thanksgivin' prayers.
-
A Thanksgiving Prayer
Poet: Blanche Lea Walden
For those who bravely dared to face
The wolf-fangs of the sea,
To find a land where they might dwell
In faith and liberty.
For pioneers who blazed the trails
And broke the virgin sod
With strength and spirit, firm, and sure,
Today, we thank thee, God!
For ancestors with a vision
As wide and deep and high
And as filled with stars of promise
As the eternal sky,
For health and homes and country
And laughter, sweet and gay
For all of these - and love and faith
We thank thee, God, today!
-
Thanksgiving Song
Poet: Laura Lee Randall
This is the day the Lord hath made;
Be glad, give thanks, rejoice;
Stand in his presence, unafraid,
In praise lift up your voice.
All perfect gifts are from above,
And all our blessings show
The amplitude of God's dear love
Which every heart may know.
The Lord will hear before we call,
And every need supply;
Good things are freely given to all
Who on His word rely.
We come today to bring Him praise
Not for such gifts alone,
But for the higher, deeper ways
In which His love is shown.
For sin destroyed, for sorrow healed.
For health and peace restored;
For Life and Love by Truth revealed,
We thank and bless the Lord.
This is the day the Lord hath made,
In praise lift up your voice.
In shining robes of joy arrayed,
Be glad, give thanks, rejoice.
-
Thanksgiving Kitchens
Poet: Dorothy Brown Thompson
Thanksgiving kitchens
Are gay with color —
Pumpkins are yellow.
Apples are red;
And though the puddings
Are somewhat duller,
A richer fragrance
Is theirs instead.
And what a fragrance!
Spices and sweetness
Wreathing steam-clouds
Round eager faces;
The turkey stuffed to
Luscious repleteness;
Thanksgiving kitchens —
Promising places!
-
A Thanksgiving Hymn
Poet: Agnes Maule Machar
For the gladness of the sunshine.
For the dropping of the rain,
For the springtide's bloom of promise,
For the autumn's golden grain,
For the beauty of the forest.
For the fatness of the field,
For the orchard's rosy fruitage,
For the vineyard's luscious yield.
We thank Thee, O Lord!
For the nobler, richer beauty,
For the light that spirits know,
For the sacredness of duty
Guiding us through life below.
For our earthly ties so precious,
For the fireside warm and bright,
For the faith that through the darkness
Leads us to immortal light,
We thank Thee, O Lord!
For the drought that parched and withered.
For the blast that bared the bough,
For the clouds concealing blessings
That we may not measure now,
For our gladness and our sorrow.
For our poverty and wealth.
For our getting and our losing,
For our sickness and our health.
We thank Thee, O Lord !
For the losses and the crosses
Coming sore against our will;
From Thy hand each good gift cometh,
And, not less, the seeming ill.
What Thou givest in Thy wisdom.
That alone to us is blest.
And of all Thy countless givings,
For Thy boundless love, the best,
We thank Thee, Lord!
-
Hope This Thanksgiving
Poet: Judith A. Lindberg
The simplicity is overwhelming,
For what we plant, we also reap.
Lord, grant us soul seeds,
That we may plant them with love,
Weather them with tears of compassion,
Nurture them with embraces fo warmth,
Protect them from the storms of life.
Bless this bounty with grace and gentleness,
That the harvest will be abundant
In love, in trust, to be shared
With those closest to our hearts.
May we plant soul seeds for strength,
Harvested in hope this Thanksgiving,
For all the days and years that follow.
-
Good To Set Aside
Poet Unknown
It is good
To set aside a day when we remember
That the beauty about us —
The land, the sea, the sky,
And all that is,
Is not as a result of our power,
But really, truly
Because of the Divine love
And providence of God
Who cares.
Father, instill in us
A right spirit,
So that what we see
Is not so much
The many things we have
For our own,
But what others do not have
To call their own.
Thus — in this light
Let us be thankful.
Thanksgiving — quite inexpressible in words
Yet adequately expressed
In little deeds or silent gifts
That arise spontaneously
Almost sympathetically
When the chord of love is struck.
Thus, in the touch of a moment
We express something almost inexpressible
And we give thanks.
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