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Thanksgiving

They could not halt their doubts from growing
nor devine their fate on land,
a gale might blow without foreknowing
to thrash the stalwart band.
Young Mary stepped on Plymouth Rock
and they knelt with upturned hands
on golden grains of sand.

The Pilgrims broke their backs a-sowing,
a lone struggle to survive.
Ducks, wild turkeys kept a-coming
their barren tables to provide.
All suffered harshly that first winter
- the snow piled high on countrysides -
just fifty-two remained alive.

Soon enough courageous throngs
determined a feast to organise;
naught turned out wrong
in blizzards’ teeth they had contrived
to stock and store for better weather
Harvests flourished... souls alive.
no more upon the Mayflower they relied.

Let this be sung for all of time,
no one should their eyes blindfold
nor close their hearts to valor fine.
The Pilgrim’s feats
at Thanksgiving be retold.
When all gather round the turkey
settler’s thankful words
are symbolized by nuts and meats
with which one stuffs the roasted bird.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I composed this poem for a competition held at an old poetry website, Mosaic Musings. My knowledge of the pilgrims was scant, so I looked up the topic and this is the result. Please correct all details that may be totally wrong. I'd written about my own country's settlers, but never about the USA.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Dear Jerry, thanks so much for pointing out that these are myths. It would be nice to know the true history. Thanks for your kind remarks, I'll google! All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Hi Jerry, this is the link to where I got my information. Of course, it says it's a legend, about Mary being the first woman to step on the land or rock. Still, it's romantic, sort of...I'm sure that you, being from Arizona, know much more than I do about all this fascinating history. Thanks for pointing out the myths, all the best, Gracy

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Chilton

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Good to read a tale old through thee verses....it is pleasure to read your writes which offers many things to learn especially the choice of words which created imagery...

regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Hi raj, so glad you returned to read my poem. I just commented on one of yours, I'm not sure whether I understood it well.
I like writing poems about myth or legends, it's fun. Please don't take them as historical. Jerry has pointed out that Mary is a legend. So it is, I checked her out.
Thank you for your comments, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Thank you, Jerry. You led me to look up the various versions of the Pilgrims and settlers, as well as myth and legend. So you've done me a favor.
Yes, I had fun, both writing and learning. All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

quite well with the information that you had and like jerry says; as poets, we are allowed [poetic license]. Good write nonthless. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Thank you, Geez. I knew nothing about the Pilgrims, so I googled it and came up with this legend. I believe it got a 3rd. prize in Mosaic's competition.
Poetic liscence, yes! Best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

you have outdone yourself this piece is amazing
drew me right in from the first line
beautiful workmanship

Chrys

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Hi Lynn, thank you for your kind comments. It's an old poem and as Jerry pointed out, it's a legend. I'm so glad you like it.
Best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Dear Teddy, I'm not from the USA either. Learning English was a process from the cradle and a bilingual boarding school in Buenos Aires at the age of ten.
Thank you for your sincere comments. I'm slowly working on getting a poetry book published, but, as you probably know, people don't read much poetry. I do get my stuff published on online magazines and so forth. Do you ever send your poems anywhere? There's Verse Virtual, Black Flowers, Peace & Freedom, North Oxford (in the USA) and others that I can't remember. You can google them.
Yes, one learns a lot with wikepedia, etc. I'm a vegetarian now, due to my Fibromyalgia and chemical sensitivity.
I also admire your writing skills, so it's mutual. In Argentina, only the indigenous people have three days of thanksgiving to Mother Earth. That's on June 21st., which is their New Year.
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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