Dust laden memories of days gone by
float in on kitchen clatter
and mingle in the sounds of love and laughter,
familiar smells of turkey and pumpkin pie.
Loved ones near to us speak of Grace
old ghosts gather round us in love and joy;
we pass them around like precious old photos
stored in the attic of our memories.
And we give 'thanks' for another year's journey,
one that has led us all back home
to our roots in one another.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Deftly descriptive of this holiday. Very well done, I like it!