November's come upon us,
chilly nights and smells of fall.
Thanksgiving time is here again,
when turkeys hear the call.
My loved ones not all with me,
but I'm thinking of them all--
no matter how big,
no matter how small.
This harvest holiday, no doubt,
our stomachs will enthrall
with stuffing, mashed potatoes, pie,
and even alcohol.
Our waistlines will be growing,
and our belts must heed the call--
no matter how big,
and no matter how small.
It's been a year for adding on,
I needn't tell y'all,
we threw a wedding celebration--
a festive sylvan ball.
And now my wife is sprouting out
a junior volleyball.
She's looking very big
because she's cooking something small.
And though the country's run by folks
whose intellects appall,
basing their decisions less on love
and more on gall,
this evening let us join hands
and send good will to all,
for blessings can be big,
and blessings can be small.
So let's give thanks this holiday
as good things we recall,
and reach across the timezones
with a telepathic call.
I hold you in my heart,
and I send my love to all--
no matter how big,
no matter how small.