Thanksgiving On The Farm
By Edith M. Helstern 1962
Have you ever spent Thanksgiving
Down home upon the farm,
Where the holidays had meaning
And the days had so much charm?
Here the scenery is more beautiful
Than the city sights we see
Where the cornstalks stand in grandeur
In their sheaves of dignity.
With the golden pumpkins piled around
Just waiting for the harvest,
The autumn leaves of red and gold
Enhance the maple forest.
The frosted grapes still hang in clusters
Mid the leaves already touched
By the first and early painting
Of the old fall painter's brush.
There is magic in this setting as the sunset tints unfold,
In the skyline of the beautiful
That God alone can mold.
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