The calendar dictates that now is the time
To give thanks for life and its boons,
Such as clemency granted for some of our crimes,
And to pray that the others aren't discovered soon.
With family and friends, of whom we've spoken ill,
We gather at the table over bottle and hymn.
In fellowship, fondness, with pie on the sill,
We rejoice at the levity of the old hangman's limb.
For though we be rats, shrews, groundhogs or moles;
In our conduct, craven, cowardly and foul;
The aroma of yams now filling our holes
Blinds us to the shadow that's cast by the owl.
Just because we're petty, jealous and hateful
Doesn't have to mean we're ungrateful.
So tomorrow, give thanks for the good things you've found
Among all those you coveted all year around.
GRATEFUL, adj. In the first flush of future resentment.
grateful - A unit of measurement pertaining to the quantity of parmeasan cheese on pasta. As in, "I'll have a grateful please."
ReplyDeletegrateful, adj. the "glass is half full" mentality; just next door to "I need a bigger glass!"
ReplyDeleteGrateful: dear remains.
ReplyDeletesorry -- just picturing someone speeding over the hill in order to get to Grandma's house in time for Thanksgiving supper. ; )
Wonderful poem!
ReplyDeleteThe grates are full of leaves here. And yet the trees are not empty. Mmmmm...
gmirk: grateful? I smirk.
For though we be rats, shrews, groundhogs or moles;
ReplyDeleteOnly you, Dawg, ony you
How do you come up with these things? I love it
Happy Thanksgiving, I guess
Only you could come up with such a great poem.
ReplyDeleteGrateteful: I am grateful for antibiotics and prednisone...if it were not for two cources of the first and 9 days of the later I might not have been here to trip on a course of Tryptophan ;}
I was going to suggest:
ReplyDeleteGRATEFUL, adj. The state of the grate that prevents you from falling in.
But you've already expressed that sentiment far better.
Our President has pardoned a turkey. Perhaps in the hope that the bird will win the next election and pardon him. Not that the bird wouldn't do a better job in the office than the turkeys who are running for it.
I know, I know, it's Thanksgiving ...
THANKSGIVING n. but if I give it, what will I have left to be thankful for?
ReplyDeleteYour curmudgeoness is showing...at your nice but oh-so-jaded definition which gave me a chuckle :)
ReplyDeleteGrateful: Happiness at being able to be still standing after ice skating with the kids last night.
"We gather at the table over bottle and hymn.
In fellowship, fondness, with pie on the sill,
What perfect poetry. You blend in well with all the greats Doug.
And here I was thinking Thanksgiving was about saying Happy Last Birthday to all turkeys in America. :-)
ReplyDeleteTerrific poem!! I'm smiling from ear to ear.
ReplyDelete:-)
Grateful: Glad for what you have.
Enjoy a wonderful Thanksgiving with many fine culinary delicacies. Those light, airy fixings such as mashed taters and sweet potato casserole and stuffing and pumpkin pie.
I may not have room for any chocolate truffles over the next few days.
I can't believe I just said that!!!
I'll be back by here Sunday afternoon to catch your weekend story.
Until then.... eat well!! And give the doggies lots of extra scraps.
I bet the turkeys are thankful especially since they're condemned to two thanksgivings. Poor, tasty birds.
ReplyDeletePoobah, what's the unit for asada?
ReplyDeleteMinka, and that rooms is just indoors from the trough as I recall.
No need to apologize here, Neva. Broken and dying celebrants are more or less the central image.
TLP, I bet the leaves on the trees are impostors. Did you try talking into one?
Pia, enjoy yours. I just picture everyone I meet with a pink nose and tail. After that it just all flows.
Mo'a that story was seriously scary. I sure am glad you're well now. Do you sculpt your mashed potatoes?
Amoeba, gratitude means never having to be pleasant. That said, you and Quilly have a grand holiday.
Quilly, that's why I only say thank you for every fourth kindness. I'm strict about that.
Thanks, Terry. The greats and I make a savory sausage, I bet.
Ariel, the turkey career ladder here hasn't many rungs. Pretty much it goes gobble then gravy.
Jamie Dawn, may yours be as warm as your heart and as sweet as your tooth.
Haha, Jenn. You see why I work so hard to stay bitter.
Actonbell, I'm at work and grateful not to be driving East from here in the direction of vegas. Apparently, birds in pasties is the rage in LA this year. I'm trying to guess the song from Hair you were thinking of. Pretty sure I know them all kinda from my days as a little boy on the south side of chicago in the "Jive Turkey" t-shirt.
GRATEFUL n. that which I am un much more often then I have any cause to be.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking for the shrew contingent, we are fully in the first flush of future resentment (the alliteration!)... but still find your thanksgiving poem something for which to be grateful. Also, we admire your abstinence (on so many levels) but particularly re gossip. How high-minded. xoxo
ReplyDeleteWhat's a pastie? xoxo
ReplyDeleteDoug sweet Dog...
ReplyDeletehope you enjoy
a beautiful Thanksgiving celebration
with your family and friends...
i am thankful
that we had Thanksgiving
a month ago
and i am thankful
to know a Doug like you.
all the best to you
and yours...
(aren't you on a plane or something?)
xo
Gravy Thanksgiving! The most important thing: stay on the right side of the oven's door.
ReplyDeleteHappy Thanksgiving, you big turkey! ; ) xox
ReplyDeletespeaking of turkeys... guessing the ones who survive will be more than grateful to say adios to this particular holiday. ; )
Quilly, that sounds vaguely human.
ReplyDeleteMireille, a pastie is the humility of a bare-chested, dancing gossip.
Thanks, JJ. I wasn't on a plane for which I give thanks. Also for your good wishes in heroic verse.
Mireille, once you get 40 or so Thanksgivings behind you, the oven is no longer a threat. Not even the table has enough room.
Neva, thank you, little grouse! And also to you.
i'm always thankful that i'm
ReplyDeletenot on a plane too...
and i have yet to understand
what means heroic verse..
i looked it up once
and still didnt understand it.
i usually dont advertise here
in brainiac land that i so
dont understand most of
the genius level subtleties
that occur here,
but sometimes,
once is simply forced
to be themselves...
happy happy..xo
hey, you meant to say that to Ariel ... my sister is sarcasm. Happy Thanksgiving, Doug!! xoxo
ReplyDeleteIn. My sister in sarcasm. I am fettered by a bandaid from "First Blood, Thanksgiving 2007" from slicing bread dough with my sharp new knife and can't type. anywat. xoxo
ReplyDeleteJJ, oblivion and genius are siamese twins.
ReplyDeleteMireille, you're right. Sorry, Ariel.I understood you anywat, Mireille.