I’ve penned poems for Thanksgiving
For a dozen years or more
And I still haven’t included
All the things I’m thankful for
And I’d need to keep on rhyming
For another ten and counting
To express how, with each passing year,
My gratitude is mounting
To the host, for his indulgence
In those weeks I pen a bad one
And of course, to his producer
I mean, if the program had one
To the listeners who tune in
And my wife (who likes my looks)
To my wise poetic clients
And the folks who bought my books
To my son, who’s working harder
Than I ever saw him study
Have I told you how impressive
What you’re doing is, good buddy?
To my parish friends and neighbors
Who each Sunday that I sup with
To the California citizens
And all that they put up with
To our firefighting heroes
How I wish I knew your names
I would tell a grateful nation
How you saved our state from flames
To our fighting men and women
Who make up our nation’s treasure
And to those, in line of duty,
Who gave us their last full measure
May the way we thank you daily
Indicate how we have striven
To be diligent and worthy
Of the gifts that we’ve been given
To all the friends who helped me
And to those whom I befriended
It’s ok for you to smile
My Thanksgiving poem has ended
