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HARVEST TIME"Inspired" sigs It steals along the morning vale The dewdrops of the autumn mist And through its curtain the sun shines pale Along riverbank it will persist Then softly blows the wind of morn Over bounteous fields kissed with sun and rain And whispers in the ears of wheat and corn Harvest time is here again It tosses the head of majestic tree Plucking coloured gems from its crown Where from the branches falling free The autumn leaves come winging down And now there is unceasing toil From morning sun ‘til harvest moon To gather the bounty from the soil For winter days are creeping soon And busy hands gather in the wheat The earthy potatoes from the drill The fruit of tree so good to eat For barns of storage are to fill Back through the mist of years Jesus walked the harvest field And gazed upon the golden ears When mother earth had produced her yield And watched it fall to reaper swing The ripened heads fit for harvest now After days of growing from the spring When seeds were sown behind the plough Then compared the world to whitened field Where dying souls are like falling leaves Who will reap the harvest field? And carry home the precious sheaves Who will seek precious souls to win? Before scythe of death begins to mow To tell of Jesus who frees from sin For they will reap what they will sow Jesus looks to me and calls to you Who by His blood our sin relieves His harvest reapers we are few But let us work to gather in His sheaves Colin Moffett Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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