Shiv'ry bony fingers clasped together,
Shawls tucked close to shield from blasts of weather,
Huddled heads bowed down to give thee due praise,
As well as hope for brighter, future days.
Some still weak from sickness and starvation,
Some oppressed by death's heavy oblation,
Many lives gone for the sake of others,
Hoping for freedom to worship as brothers.
Pilgrim settlers and the noble red man
Gather together as one united clan,
Sharing meager crops grown with native skill,
Venison and turkey, to eat their fill.
The starving time is behind us now.
For what lies ahead will be grace enou'.
Look not to the graves of friends departed,
But on this endeavor which we have started.
Trembling with fear, hope, anticipation
At wond'ring weakness of an infant nation,
Hoping for justice, prosperity and peace,
May our longing for righteous life never cease.
Only with you, Lord, guiding our fragile lives
Will we run the good race and win the prize.
Your vast blessings may we never forget
So that our newborn land may please you yet.
2 comments:
This is an excellent poem. To me the biggest failure with most poetry is that it tries a little hard, but this is completely natural and comes alive with its own unique voice. It really is very well put together and appropriately reflective without sounding pretentious.
I agree. This is beautiful, and by far the best reflection on Thanksgiving I've heard all month. Thank you for sharing it!
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