When Mom would baste the turkey,
We kids could hardly wait!
The smell of all that cooking,
The pies upon the plate,
The cranberries, red and juicy,
The dressing, golden-brown,
Potatoes, mashed and ready --
Can't we, please, sit down?
When Mom would baste the turkey,
We knew she soon would say,
"Come! Count your many blessings
On this Thanksgiving Day."
We'd all hold hands together
And bow our heads in prayer.
It was a happy moment
With all our loved ones there.
When Mom would baste the turkey,
My heart would glow with love!
Our home, so warm and peaceful,
Was blessed by heaven above.
Mom made our gatherings special
In a warm and loving way,
And I'll always have her near me
On each Thanksgiving Day.
by Nelle Hardgrove
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