Thanksgiving,The Old Fashioned Way

In Memory of my Beautiful Mother
Sept.10,1937-July 5,2001

Our kitchen was always, such ,a busy place on Thanksgiving Day
As Mother prepared a bountiful feast to celebrate this holiday
She would baste the turkey with herbs and with spices
And cut the cranberry sauce into dainty round slices
While the oven boasted aromas of a medley of dishes
From a potpourri of foods that smelled so delicious

Our table was adorned, with a fancy white linen cloth
And Mother made her homemade gravy, from the turkey's broth
As it simmered in the pot, with the heat down on low
She'd arrange the silverware in a tidy neat row
Sitting a plate and a glass in front of every chair
For each of the guests, who would be dining with us there

And, I, just a girl; would watch for my brothers and their wives
Peering out of the window, to see who'd be the first to arrive
While Daddy wandered into the kitchen,his eyes twinkling with delight
Hoping to catch Mother not looking, so he could steal a bite
And back at the window, someone would be pulling up the drive
Excited, I'd rush to see who was the first to arrive

Then with a rap at the door and a gust of cold blustery wind
Our door blew open, my brother and his wife walked in
Baring hearty Thanksgiving greetings, as they hung up their cloaks
And we'd settle into the family room, as we reminisced and joked
After my oldest brother arrived, it appeared everyone was there
And we'd gather 'round the table, taking a place behind our chair

Dad helped Mom with the turkey, which they proudly held up and boast
This plump juicy bird that was golden and brown like toast
And the table, it was spread with a variety of things
For Mother had prepared a feast, fit for a king
There was cornbread stuffin, yams, and green beans
Rolls fresh from the oven, piping hot with steam

A bowl of mash potatoes, fluffy white in a mound
Sitting next to a boat of gravy,creamy, rich, and brown
There was a basket of bread, and rolls that lay in warm buttery streams
And a golden pumpkin pie topped with whip cream
Standing at the table with mom, my brother, and their wives
We'd watch Dad cut the turkey with his carving knives

After each of us fixed our plates from this array
Of food that sat upon the dining room buffet
We'd sit down at the table and catch up with each other
Listening to old stories told by dad and my mother
And my brothers would tell their plans for the upcoming year
Preparing for a new baby or a change in career

After dessert was over and we had each cleaned our plate
We'd head to the family room and continue to conversate
Building our bonds as we came together on this special day
To share a family Thanksgiving, the old fashioned way.