Poems of gratitude overflow with warmth and appreciation, celebrating life’s blessings, big and small. The poet uses sincere, heartfelt language to express a deep sense of thankfulness.
Such verses often highlight the beauty in ordinary moments, encouraging the reader to cultivate an attitude of gratitude. These poems remind us of the joy in simple pleasures, inspiring a sense of contentment and encouraging us to appreciate the gifts of life.
Kilmer’s ‘Trees’ marvels at nature’s beauty, declaring trees as divine art surpassing human creation, in simple yet profound couplets.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
‘I’m Thankful for Turkey’ by Kenn Nesbitt celebrates Thanksgiving, as the speaker joyfully lists diverse dishes, conveying gratitude, indulgence, and familial bonds through vivid imagery.
I’m thankful for turkey.
I’m thankful for yams.
I’m thankful for cranberries,
biscuits, and hams.
‘A Farewell’ challenges the reader to reflect upon the fleeting nature of human life, especially when compared to nature.
Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.
‘Canal Bank Walk’ explores a spiritual communion with nature, yearning for a pure, unselfconscious connection with the divine.
Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal
Pouring redemption for me, that I do
The will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal,
Grow with nature again as before I grew.
‘Praise Song For My Mother’ uses nature metaphors to depict her mother’s vital, nurturing presence in a personal ode.
You were
water to me
deep and bold and fathoming
‘How Things Work’ by Gary Soto is a moving poem that envisions an optimistic perception of the way people support one another through financial altruism.
Today it’s going to cost us twenty dollars
To live. Five for a softball. Four for a book,
A handful of ones for coffee and two sweet rolls,
Bus fare, rosin for your mother’s violin.
In ‘Sonnet 43’, or ‘How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways’ the speaker is proclaiming her unending passion for her beloved.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
‘The Little Black Boy’ by William Blake is a difficult poem. It delves into topics of race, racism, and slavery from the perspective of an 18th-century poet.
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
‘In Memory of the Utah Stars’ captures the manner in which memories can provide us with both pleasure and pain.
Each of them must have terrified
his parents by being so big, obsessive
and exact so young, already gone
and leaving, like a big tipper,
‘Request To A Year’ by J. Wright seeks a great-great-grandmother’s artistic resolve amidst adversity through memory.
If the year is meditating a suitable gift,
I should like it to be the attitude
of my great- great- grandmother,
legendary devotee of the arts,
‘From Blossoms’ describes the simple joys of summer. It uses peaches to explore the vivid interconnectedness of the world.
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
‘Ode to Dirt’ is an impassioned all for everyone to reevaluate their perception of dirt and learn to appreciate it for its many qualities.
Dear dirt, I am sorry I slighted you,
I thought that you were only the background
for the leading characters—the plants
and animals and human animals.
‘Stars’ by Sara Teasdale presents nature’s majesty through the sublime beauty and timelessness of stars providing spiritual truth.
And a heaven full of stars
Over my head
White and topaz
And misty red;
Celebrating the beauty of diligence, Marge Piercy’s ‘To be of use’ draws powerful metaphors between humans and enduring animals.
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
‘Cetacean’ by Peter Reading describes a speaker’s whale watching experience and the overall grace of the blue whales he observed.
Out of Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco, Sunday, early,
our vessel, bow to stern, some sixty-three feet,
to observe Blue Whales -and we did, off the Farallones.
They were swimming slowly, and rose at a shallow angle