Every year around this time,

I am moved to write in rhyme.

When the autumn sun shines gold,

And the leaves are at their prime.

Time for sweaters, time for boots,

Cobbled sidewalks underfoot.

Breezes crisp on city streets,

Old Man Winter, in cahoots.

Breezy, freezy nose and toes,

Icy, spicy winds that blow,

Scented cinnamon and sweet,

Through the ribbons and the bows.

Kitchens warm with hearty scents.

Simmering pots and happy friends.

Toasting health with every glass.

Soon a new year’s turn portends.

To Grandma’s house, or back to mom’s,

Each year everybody comes.

Chairs around a groaning table,

‘Till there’s nothing left but crumbs.

Aunt Mary’s usual complaints

Uncle Fred must be a saint.

Mom’s secret smile means she knows

What it is and what it ain’t.

Cousins tumble in the yard

Playing football, playing hard

Holiday clothes weren’t meant for this

But it makes the children tired.

Granny’s famous pie is served

Mama’s famous quince preserve

Dad is fond of candied yams

Which he consumes without reserve

Nonna’s cornbread goes so quick.

Jalapenos are the trick.

Chestnuts never worked for her.

She’s a cooking maverick.

Carve the turkey, slice the ham

I’ll have a portion, thank-you, ma’am

Fill my plate up, stack it high

Goodies piled rim to rim.

Second helpings, sure, have more.

That is what we came here for.

And to renew old acquaintance,

The ones we love, whom we adore.

Soon as Halloween is past,

The season zips by oh, so fast.

Thanksgiving plates are barely cleared

As gifts beneath the tree are placed.

Breathe in, take a moment’s break,

Before a task you undertake.

A recipe, some decoration,

Something else you have to make.

It comes only once a year

This season that we hold so dear.

It goes by faster than you know

This time of food, and warmth, and cheer.