“Thanksgiving 2014” - BW P. Harte
I am thankful for someone. I’m thankful for you.
I’m Thankful for your melodic laugh that makes the harmonics in my heartstrings resonate; Thankful for the galaxy in your eyes that robs me of respiration; Thankful for your dress, dictated by your mindset for the day ahead; Thankful for your unextraordinary physique;
Thankful for your timeless tastefulness in your interests and convictions; Thankful for the way you’re unfazed by the opinions of others; Thankful for your unwavering stance and perpetual perseverance; Thankful for your vernacular, both full of wit and full of wisdom, with ineffable ken of which is appropriate when;
Thankful for your embrace through the nib of your pen, comfort and encouragement in your earnest scrawl; Thankful for your enshrouding shadow, obstructing me from further scathing and destruction, since you discovered my battle scars
Thankful for your kinetic alacrity and your magnetic passion; Thankful for your unwavering affability, for your trenchant consciousness of the dynamics surrounding you; Thankful for you personifying the fulgent moon in the oppressive night
Thankful for your indefinite patience and sensitivity to your own faults; Thankful for your abilities and acceptance of your inabilities; Thankful for your absence of pride and unrivaled modesty; Thankful for your quintessential asceticism
Thankful for your courteous timeliness and caution against causing discomfort Thankful for the consistency as time went by Thankful for the way you won me over unconsciously Thankful for the reasons why
Thankful for your still yet imperfect existence And most prominently, I am thankful for the enrapturing anticipation of encountering you.












