Was it the pumpkin pie?
Or the potatoes piled high?
From the kitchen aromas sweet,
Drifting to every nose it meets.
Not a snapshot can I find,
But my memories are just fine.
Of family gathered around the table,
Of joyful thanks we’re proud and able,
To all those guest in Thanksgiving’s past,
I am so thankful you crossed my path.
To mom, the cook who inspired me most,
And to her mother I surely toast.
From grandma’s pie to Aunt Lila’s dishes.
Her scalloped corn made taste buds vicious.
Laughs and smiles around the room,
Aunt Lucy swinging to Uncle Bob’s tunes.
Uncle Ervin entertaining my dear old dad,
With the fishing stories he always had.
A turkey dinner that's so perfectly planned,
Family of all ages thankful hand and hand.
Babies then from yesterday now growing old,
History found in memories that is proudly told.
It started with a family tradition many years ago.
A holiday of giving thanks America well knows.
© 2017 Diana L Pierce