My thankfulness is a wisp of breeze,The lubrication that gives us ease,That should be shouted, repeated proud,Said to each other, said, gratefully, aloud.
Of all the hundreds, three sixty-five,The plethora that keeps us alive,We set aside Thanksgiving to say,The thank you we should say each day.
With haste we run from hither to yon,In dark of night, at crack of dawn,Though brought to us are many gifts,Still, we remain forever miffed.
’Tis more, we’re always seeking more,Yet, ignore we blessings at our door,The gentle, tender, humility here,Is what we say, not what we fear.
For that, I will with heart extend,To each, that which I do expend,My thanks, so deep, for all of you,Acquaintances, neighbors, friends; our community’s glue.
T.A. LeachThe Glebe, Mathews, Va.
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