We have paid our homage to love and family, thankful for both in our lives. Having celebrated Thanksgiving this week, we would like you to write about what you remain thankful . Gratitude when fully expressed brings comfort to all.

Marie’s thanks:

Grace and gratitude
Are facilitated by
My grave shortcomings.

Walt’s gratitude:

Those who share their hearts
and words expressive and loving,
you have endeared yourselves to me.
For this I give my love.

89 thoughts on “GRATITUDE IN ABUNDANCE – Prompt # 31

  1. Gratitude is truly due to Marie Elena and Walt – two lovely people who bring light to our lives. But in case you wanted something more, I have just partially re-written this tribute poem for PAD day 27and I think it passes for gratitude:

    Hero Husband

    My hero looks after me when I am ill
    which is often. He brings me tea,
    and pills to kill the pain
    or at least to soften it to bearable.

    In summer he grows potatoes,
    tomatoes and all things good to eat.
    He mows the lawn, God bless him,
    riding his green machine with a seat.

    In winter He makes furniture of oak,
    and wonderful soup,
    enjoys silly jokes,
    and mends stuff that’s broken.

    I’m lucky to have him
    He has his faults – who hasn’t –
    so we’ll gloss over those.
    My only if only: that he’d bring me a rose.


    God’s love
    Radiates when
    Attitudes of gratitude
    Take over all thoughts
    Instantly replacing
    Tense nonsense;
    Underlying worries
    Disappear and
    Eternal peace reigns

  3. Similar prompt for the PAD Challenge today. Posted there and here as well.

    We Salute You

    To all the men and women in the military,
    who help protect the red, the white, the blue,
    we humbly give our thanks and admiration.
    With our deepest gratitude, we salute you.

    By Michael Grove


    For every soul, man or beast
    Who stood with me in ranks
    With touch or smile
    Or spending a while
    I offer gracious thanks.

    I only am who I’ve become
    Because you’ve joined me here.
    Without your bit
    I wouldn’t fit.
    I’d be a broken mirror.

    I’m made of those I’ve met and known;
    A puzzle with tiny parts.
    Each piece is wrought
    Of time and thought
    From all those precious hearts.

  5. My poem is a simple wish. . an Irish benison according to my fellow blogger Kathryn.. I am also grateful to have found your blog:)

    A Simple Wish

    May your home be big enough to stow those you love,
    May your windows heave wide to the stars and wind,
    May your path wander, curve and meander down,
    And your gates swing wide to welcome us in.

    Let your table have room so that all might squeeze,
    Let your galley be the breadth of a warm loaf of bread,
    Let your corks pop, incense and fill up your cup,
    And may a fire’s heat warm your bed.

    Lend your ears, listen to melody’s tender note,
    Lend your arms, outstretched for each warm embrace,
    Lend your sweet mouth, let it to turn.. just so and smile,
    And may your heart be lulled with grace.

  6. This poem is about a friend of over 30 years who has become a hero of mine. Selfless, talented, and an all-around great woman, wife, mom, and caring artist. I am grateful for the abundance of love she has brought to my life. For C., with love.

    Therapy in Bb

    Last-minute detour;
    Mrs. Kelly is dying.
    The family wants the music therapist
    to come as soon as she can.

    So she revs up her little Vibe
    heads towards the nursing home,
    unlocks the trunk,
    unloads guitar and gear…
    preparing to sing another soul
    to the other side.

    Dying is easy – getting there is hard.
    The soothing strum of her deft fingers,
    her buttery smooth voice…
    these are qualities of her calling.
    As she almost whispers, “Danny Boy,”
    Mrs. K’s shoulders relax;
    fingers ease from clenched fists.

    This family knows and trusts her,
    and their shoulders relax as well.

    Over the years, the music therapist has seen
    the blank smiles of dementia,
    heard their laughter, unprompted.
    The tears of loved ones
    trickling over forced, brave faces.
    The final sigh, when death grants peace,
    eight grams lifting along with her voice
    into eternity.

    Once, she sang in cabarets, acted in plays,
    danced The Big Apple of Broadway dreams.
    Music therapy has brought her more purpose
    than playing adenoidal Miss Adelaide.

    This calling gives her satisfaction.
    Gives her purpose.
    Gives her joy.
    Gives her administrative grief.
    Gives her patients relief.
    Gives her backaches, but also
    a swelling of her already brimming heart.

    She is the angel of music
    who helps death come in peace.

    © 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil Visit my blog:

  7. Walt and Marie, your poems were so brief, yet packed! Marie, your sense of irony is not lost on this girl. Walt, your gratitude for hearts shared was very touching. Lovely, both of you. PS Walt, thanks for your poem on P.A. Will be in touch and try to always post my “blooms” here! Amy

  8. The sense of her comes through so clearly in this – the grace of singing another soul over – just reading I felt the wash of grace pouring through – beautiful

  9. A Sure Presence

    Her eyes shone bright long
    before my sisters and I
    were a noted thought

    She walked beside first
    wobbly steps, and ran beside
    bicycles and skates

    Her steady fingers
    guided needle stitches and
    scissor cuts till straight

    She sang Sunday hymns
    her breath full of gratitude
    her smiles our sunshine

    I could go on and
    on as she has through these years
    always near enough

    To listen, offer
    us her trust, assurance in
    our ability

  10. A Cinderblock of Gratitude

    It is hard not to find a cinderblock of gratitude
    when you think about where you have been,
    hear about what is going on in Egypt or Israel or wherever,
    look at the man on television telling Bob Costas
    about what it was like moving his entire family into a Honda.
    The house at the intersection is brand new
    but just two seasons ago it was mostly ash
    you were standing in
    and only ash you could see in every direction,
    especially forward.
    You framed the picture of fire
    in order to remember
    but you didn’t bring it to Philadelphia.
    That’s when I – I mean you –
    started making a gratitude list
    but stopped when I got to 158. moccasins.

  11. Along the lines of what Mike Grove said earlier about the prompts being similar, here is the piece I wrote for the NOVPAD prompt today over at Poetic Asides. I just read Exit by Nelly Arcan and read about her suicide immediately after finishing it. Tragic. Really makes you feel grateful for every day you have.

    Nelly Arcan Tribute

    Are we just muddy instants?
    – Frank O’hara

    I am glad I never met Nelly Arcan
    and only learned of her life after her death.
    I am glad because I now miss her
    in the way you miss a painting
    and not in the ways painted with excruciation,
    attachment, guilt of having nothing to give
    but a lousy tribute poem made up of nothing beautiful enough.
    Somewhere the order got all jumbled
    and the goodbye came after the Exit,
    the character writing the author,
    and then you have to factor in the two years it takes
    to translate some beauty into english.
    I do not know the definition of this emotion, says the pilot light
    behind the rib cage.
    I need a better word for farewell, goes the bird’s song.

  12. ~PURITY~

    Heart seen thoroughly,
    No hidden spaces,
    Nor traces of hatred;
    Love in its most pure form.
    I see it in your eyes,
    And it keeps me alive.
    Knowing there’s
    Such a thing
    as true love.

  13. In Gratitude

    My heart beats in thanks
    for the years
    I had you,
    Dad, at holiday gatherings,
    smile spicing the day.


    close friends
    miles away,
    feel the warmth and tears
    stirred together, a stew of love.

  14. Teaching…the good stuff

    Eight pre-teens
    gathering on their own accord
    to write
    And not one uttered,
    “I’m bored.”

  15. Blessings I’ve Received of Late

    Just when I thought
    I should give it up
    That I’d never write
    Anything worth
    Reading or keeping

    Just when I heard
    That rude little editor voice
    That lives in my head

    Saying strongly and definitively
    For at least the hundredth time
    “You – a poet? Who do you
    think you are?”
    And things looked very bleak

    Someone I admire very much
    —another poet as it happens—
    Tossed me a bouquet

    And another, sent
    An encouraging word or two
    And like an arrow, a ray of sunshine
    Pierced the doubt clouds

    And now the editor’s voice is quieter
    And my poet’s voice is stronger
    And more confident
    And I feel


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  17. Thank you again Walt, for all your kind words. Both you and Marie have expressed beautifully and succinctly your own gratitude at the start of this week’s column – lovely poems. I am continually amazed at how prolific you are.

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  19. First off…I want to acknowledge my deep gratitude to Marie and Walt…for consistently providing such an incredible garden for us to plant our seeds. Their words are inspirational and encouraging. Thank you, both for 31 awesome weeks so far…haven’t missed one yet!

    ~ Paula


    They say…

    “everything you need to know
    you learned in kindergarten…”

    To you…
    my kindergarten teacher:
    thank you for starting me off
    on the right foot, and for
    following me to first grade
    to be sure my left foot
    followed right along.

    I still know all of my letters!

    P. Wanken

    Dedicated with deep gratitude to Mrs. Gugger.

  20. I’m Thankful

    I’m thankful for the friend I have in you.
    I’m thankful when you step inside my shoe.
    And when I see things your way
    I’m enlightened every day.
    I’m thankful we can share a point of view.

    I’m thankful for the bond we kindly share.
    We both know that we always truly care.
    You are a friend indeed.
    We’ll fulfill every need.
    I’m thankful knowing that you will be there.

    by Michael Grove

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  23. I’m Thankful For…

    Typing on my laptop
    Looking at old photos
    Learning and growing
    Dancing to rock music
    Working until I’m tired
    Watching a good movie
    The act of remembering
    Traveling to a new place
    Worshipping God in song
    Shannon family reunions
    Shopping for a special gift
    Our crocheted nativity set
    Hiking in the great outdoors
    When God answers a prayer
    Our tree ornament collection
    The sound of rain on the roof
    Hugs from a man with autism
    My childhood in Pennsylvania
    When my writing surprises me
    My son’s laugh and helpfulness
    A warm blanket on a cold night
    Painting with my favorite colors
    Playing Scrabble with my sisters
    Comfortable jeans and sneakers
    A good book and time to read it
    When my words touch someone
    Chicken and homemade noodles
    My husband’s deep voice singing
    Climbing at Vedauwoo, Wyoming
    My parents who are now in heaven
    Belly laughs from a childlike woman
    When a Bible verse jumps out at me
    Colorado’s blue skies and mountains
    A hot cup of tea with cream and sugar
    Phone, online and face-to-face friends
    Kayaking in a bay or in a mountain lake
    Playing online games with my daughter
    A gift that says I know and appreciate you
    Being able to see, hear, taste, walk and talk

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