Beatitude

Wheat is in the granary, hay is in the shed,
Lengthening autumn nights find me cuddled up in bed,
Reading from the Good Book, and other good books too,
In peaceful contemplation, I find that my troubles are quite few.
Despite my wayward wanderings around this crazy sphere,
I find my troubles melt away about this time of year.
Cider ferments in the jug, a wonderful shade of yellow,
Mix it with whiskey in my glass and I’m a happy fellow.
Harvest bursts the larder and the barn is filled to the brim,
A turkey is in the oven and I’ve found a tree to trim.
Kids are singing carols and they echo through the home,
I’m already wistful for a visit from that jolly Christmas gnome.
The season is upon us, it’s a good time to be living,
So much happiness in my heart, bursting out in pure Thanksgiving,
Despite humble beginnings I find that I’m blessed beyond all expectation,
I find my life completely full with health and love and family and nation.
May this harvest festival find you equally enshrined,
With love and friends and family and blessings on your mind.