Thanksgiving today.

A fire lit upon the hearth,

The coldest night had yet to start,

The sound of sweet music in the air,

With love and tender care.

The scent of meat, the constant chopping,

To converse of endless shopping,

What to do and where to go?

So then the heart would know.

How and where, who and when?

Why and what, no longer then,

The constant search to then obtain,

With nothing more to gain.

A simple word, a reminder still,

Through a fretting heart and anxious will,

Rather then concern yourself of what you have yet to receive,

Express thanksgiving, and merely believe...

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https://www.instagram.com/cccreativewriter/

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https://www.inkitt.com/stories/fantasy/610198/chapters/4

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https://vocal.media/criminal/the-treading-of-the-winepress

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https://vocal.media/poets/refined-and-approved

https://vocal.media/poets/regardless-of-what-i-will-still

https://vocal.media/fiction/what-was-what-is-and-what-is-yet-to-be

https://vocal.media/petlife/all-suffering-will-be-equal