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The Harvest
The fields are ripe, enter the reaper;
Swinging the sharp blade of the harvest.
The sun and the rains have combined
To create opportunities for the seed.
Growth has been encouraged naturally;
Touched by the hand of Mother Nature.
Loving care protects, nutrients enrich;
Incubator of life, food chain unbroken.
Separating the chaff, milling the grain;
Feeling my oats swaying in the breeze.
Timeless generation after generation;
Food of the gods enriching the soul.
Baking a loaf of nature's gift to man;
Hot from the oven, with churned butter.
Simple life in harmony with the rhythms;
Joyful dancing under the harvest moon.
Summer memories contained in the grain;
Another full trip is made around the sun.
The fields are ripe, enter the reaper;
Swinging the sharp blade of the harvest.
28May11
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