After the big Thanksgiving dinner.
Well dinner is over, and everyone's stuffed.
The doggy is whining, his tummy looks puffed.
What once was a turkey is picked to the bone.
My Grandmother's talking to Pat on the phone.
The TV is playing a six o'clock game,
While Grandpa tries fanning the fire aflame.
The kids are out playing "you're it" on the lawn.
And Dad is awaiting relief in the john.
Mom's washing dishes, while humming a tune.
A glow through the window, a lovely fall moon.
She washes the wishbone for Tammy and Ben,
Then out comes a tear, and it rolls down her chin.
She's thinking of her dad, who passed in the spring,
Remembering him for the joy he would bring.
She set out a plate for his spirit today,
"I'm sure he is with us," I heard my Dad say.
The pumpkins have shriveled, their faces look old,
They're dusted with snow on their heads, in the cold.
The children run in, with red cheeks all aglow,
From running, and laughing, and tossing the snow.
They're hanging up lights on the house down the street,
In hopes that the view will give all a fine treat.
The snowman looks happy, with eyes made of coal,
I really do think that Dad gave him a soul.
We all had a day to recall through the years,
A fine feast of food, and a prayer in our ears.
Twas a day full of thanks for our family, and friends.
A day in my thoughts that, I hope, never ends.