Thanksgiving Day
There’s a sound of merry laughter
Pealing out from down the lane,
And the bells on horse’s bridles
Make a happy noise again.
The turkey’s in the oven,
Roasting to a golden brown;
The table’s fixed so ten or twelve
Or more can sit around.
The pumpkin and the mincemeat pies
Cool temptingly nearby;
The house smells spicy and fragrant-sweet
From flaky, fresh-baked pie.
The noise is growing louder,
There’s loud stomping now of feet!
The door swings wide and voices shout,
“Hi, folks! We’re starved! When do we eat?”
Silence fills the dear old house,
Each member bows his head
As Father thanks the Lord above
For such a bounteous spread.
Then the sound of merry laughter
Fills the house with joy and play . . .
Oh, it’s grand to be with those you love
And share Thanksgiving Day.
by Mrs. Paul E. King
There’s a sound of merry laughter
Pealing out from down the lane,
And the bells on horse’s bridles
Make a happy noise again.
The turkey’s in the oven,
Roasting to a golden brown;
The table’s fixed so ten or twelve
Or more can sit around.
The pumpkin and the mincemeat pies
Cool temptingly nearby;
The house smells spicy and fragrant-sweet
From flaky, fresh-baked pie.
The noise is growing louder,
There’s loud stomping now of feet!
The door swings wide and voices shout,
“Hi, folks! We’re starved! When do we eat?”
Silence fills the dear old house,
Each member bows his head
As Father thanks the Lord above
For such a bounteous spread.
Then the sound of merry laughter
Fills the house with joy and play . . .
Oh, it’s grand to be with those you love
And share Thanksgiving Day.
by Mrs. Paul E. King