Thank you to Katya at Write. Sketch. Repeat. for hosting Poetry Friday today!
* * * * *
I’ve had lots of fun preparing
for a lesson on creative nonfiction poetry I will be leading next week. I
wanted to tie this lesson to Thanksgiving, and the historical background of the
holiday provided the perfect context. During my research, I was excited to find several books with wonderful poems about Thanksgiving, including:
·
Jack Prelutsky’s
IT’S THANKSGIVING, a fun book of poems by one of today’s greatest children’s
poets
·
THANKSGIVING
POEMS, a book of Thanksgiving poetry selected by Myra Cohn Livingston
·
THANKSGIVING
STORIES AND POEMS, edited by Caroline Feller Bauer
·
THIS IS THE
FEAST, a stunning picture book by Diane Z. Shore written entirely in rhyming couplets
and beautifully illustrated by Megan Lloyd
The collections include
both creative nonfiction and fun fiction poems about Thanksgiving, and I highly
recommend them all to anyone looking for great poetry about this holiday. And
the picture book is brimming with figurative language and imagery that is
brought into sharp focus with the accompanying illustrations! (Can you tell I’ve
*really* had fun researching this topic?☺)I also came across another wonderful Thanksgiving poem that I will share below. “The First Thanksgiving” was written by southern poet Margaret Junkin Preston in the 1800s. This is a longer work, but is a great example of creative nonfiction poetry and I was so excited to run across it:
The First Thanksgiving
by Margaret Junkin Preston
"And now," said the Governor,
gazing abroad on the piled-up store
Of the sheaves that dotted the clearings
and covered the meadows o'er,
"Tis meet that we render praises
because of this yield of grain;
Tis meet that the Lord of the harvest
be thanked for his sun and rain."
Of the sheaves that dotted the clearings
and covered the meadows o'er,
"Tis meet that we render praises
because of this yield of grain;
Tis meet that the Lord of the harvest
be thanked for his sun and rain."
"And, therefore, I, William
Bradford
(by the grace of God today,
And the franchise of this good people),
Governor of Plymouth, say,
Through virtue of vested power--
ye shall gather with one accord,
And hold, in the month of November,
thanksgiving unto the Lord."
(by the grace of God today,
And the franchise of this good people),
Governor of Plymouth, say,
Through virtue of vested power--
ye shall gather with one accord,
And hold, in the month of November,
thanksgiving unto the Lord."
"He hath granted us peace and
plenty,
and the quiet we've sought so long;
He hath thwarted the wily savage,
and kept him from wrack and wrong;
And unto our feast the Sachem shall be bidden,
that he may know
We worship his own Great Spirit,
who maketh the harvests grow."
and the quiet we've sought so long;
He hath thwarted the wily savage,
and kept him from wrack and wrong;
And unto our feast the Sachem shall be bidden,
that he may know
We worship his own Great Spirit,
who maketh the harvests grow."
"So shoulder your matchlocks,
masters--
there is hunting of all degrees;
And, fishermen, take your tackle,
and scour for spoils the seas;
And, maidens and dames of Plymouth,
your delicate crafts employ
To honor our First Thanksgiving,
and make it a feast of joy!"
there is hunting of all degrees;
And, fishermen, take your tackle,
and scour for spoils the seas;
And, maidens and dames of Plymouth,
your delicate crafts employ
To honor our First Thanksgiving,
and make it a feast of joy!"
"We fail of the fruits and
dainties--
we fail of the old home cheer;
Ah, these are the lightest losses,
mayhap, that befall us here;
But see, in our open clearings,
how golden the melons lie;
Enrich them with sweets and spices,
and give us the pumpkin-pie!"
we fail of the old home cheer;
Ah, these are the lightest losses,
mayhap, that befall us here;
But see, in our open clearings,
how golden the melons lie;
Enrich them with sweets and spices,
and give us the pumpkin-pie!"
So, bravely the preparations went on
for the autumn feast;
The deer and the bear were slaughtered;
wild game from the greatest to least
Was heaped in the colony cabins;
brown home-brew served for wine,
And the plum and the grape of the forest,
for orange and peach and pine.
for the autumn feast;
The deer and the bear were slaughtered;
wild game from the greatest to least
Was heaped in the colony cabins;
brown home-brew served for wine,
And the plum and the grape of the forest,
for orange and peach and pine.
At length came the day appointed;
the snow had begun to fall,
But the clang from the meeting-house belfry
rang merrily over all,
And summoned the folk Of Plymouth,
who hastened with glad accord
To listen to Elder Brewster
as he fervently thanked the Lord.
the snow had begun to fall,
But the clang from the meeting-house belfry
rang merrily over all,
And summoned the folk Of Plymouth,
who hastened with glad accord
To listen to Elder Brewster
as he fervently thanked the Lord.
In his seat sate Governor Bradford;
men, matrons, and maidens fair,
Miles Standish and all his soldiers,
with corselet and sword, were there;
And sobbing and tears and gladness
had each in its turn the sway,
For the grave of the sweet Rose Standish
o'ershadowed Thanksgiving Day.
men, matrons, and maidens fair,
Miles Standish and all his soldiers,
with corselet and sword, were there;
And sobbing and tears and gladness
had each in its turn the sway,
For the grave of the sweet Rose Standish
o'ershadowed Thanksgiving Day.
And when Massasoit, the Sachem,
sate down with his hundred braves,
And ate of the varied riches
of gardens and woods and waves,
And looked on the granaried harvest--
with a blow on his brawny chest,
He muttered, "The good Great Spirit
loves his white children best!"
sate down with his hundred braves,
And ate of the varied riches
of gardens and woods and waves,
And looked on the granaried harvest--
with a blow on his brawny chest,
He muttered, "The good Great Spirit
loves his white children best!"
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
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
Happy Thanksgiving, and Happy Writing!