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Light, airy scent
Caught and inhaled
Warm aroma of a turkey in the oven
With the sweet smell of fresh bread
Decorative centerpiece
Surrounded by delicious dishes
And the spicy whiff of apple cider
Heat radiating off the stove
My name drifts above the noise
Ears at attention, I watch intensely
Sniffing the air as I find my chair
The feast will begin soon
Glancing out the window
Bare trees sway in the November wind
Dry and golden grass is dead
Snowflakes stray from an overcast sky
Plate of food lying before me
Steam rising to thaw my rosy cheeks
Teeth sinking into tender meat
Mashed potatoes melt in my mouth
Main courses over, time for dessert
Foamy lemon meringue
Crunchy, gooey pecan
And soft chocolate cream
Belly bloated and satisfied
Tired eyes drooping
Curled in big, soft chair
Sleeping snuggly on Thanksgiving
© 2000, Julie
Thanksgiving
I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Apple pie was brought to England from France sometime around 1066 by William the Conqueror. It made it to America when the Pilgrims arrived.
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