Poems for Thanksgiving

Hi Misty, I did a really quick search and found these poems. 

The Pilgrims Came
The Pilgrims came across the sea,
And never thought of you and me;
And yet it’s very strange the way
We think of them Thanksgiving Day.
We tell their story old and true
Of how they sailed across the blue,
And found a new land to be free
And built their homes quite near the sea.
The people think that they were sad,
And grave; I’m sure that they were glad –
They made Thanksgiving Day – that’s fun –
We thank the Pilgrims every one!
by Annette Wynne

The Pilgrims
In the year of 1620
on a cold Decembre day
a hundred and two pilgrims
sailed into Plymouth Bay.
Still wary from their voyage –
still gacing winter’s chill –
they kept their sights on freedom
with courage, work, and will.
Pilgrims did not stop to think
of riches, fame, or glory
while bravely playing starring roles
in our new nation’s story
by Bobbi Katz

Thanksgiving Time
When all the leaves are off the boughs,
And nuts and apples gathered in,
And cornstalks waiting for the cows,
And pumpkins safe in barn and bin,
Then Mother says, “My children dear,
The fields are brown, and autumn flies;
Thanksgiving Day is very near,
And we must make thanksgiving pies!”
Author Unknown.

Thanksgiving
The year has turned its circle,
The seasons come and go.
The harvest all is gathered in
And chilly north winds blow.

Orchards have shared their treasures,
The fields, their yellow grain,
So open wide the doorway —
Thanksgiving comes again!
Old Rhyme.

The First Thanksgiving
When the Pilgrims
first gathered together to share
with their Indian friends
in the mild autumn air,
they lifted the voices
in jubilant praise
for the bread on the table,
the berries and maize,
for field and for forest,
for turkey and deer,
for the bountiful crops
they were blessed with that year.
They were thankful for these
as they feasted away,
and as they were thankful
we’re thankful today.
Unknown

Giving Thanks
For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,
For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,
For the rose and the song and the harvest brought home —
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,
For the cunning and strength of the workingman’s hand,
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought —
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the homes that with purest affection are blest,
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,
For our country extending from sea unto sea;
The land that is known as the “Land of the Free” —
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!
Author Unknown

Father in heaven , We thank thee

For flowers that bloom about our feet,

For tender grass, so fresh and sweet,

For song of bird and hum of bee,

For all things fair we hear or see—

Father in heaven, we thank thee!

For blue of stream, for blue of sky,

For pleasant shade of branches high,

For fragrant air and cooling breeze,

For beauty of the blowing trees—

Father in heaven, we thank thee!

For mother—love, for Father—care,

For brothers strong and sisters fair,

For love at home and school each day,

For guidance lest we go astray—

Father in heaven, we thank thee!

For thy dear, everlasting arms;

That bear us o’er all ills and harms;

For blessed words of long ago,

That help us now thy will to know—

Father in heaven, we thank thee!

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

That’s a good one Sue, I’m saving it!

Jack Prelutsky has a book of silly Thanksgiving poems.  Your library may have it.