Poetry: Harvest time
The sun has set within the sky,
And all the harvest fields are dry,
Where Autumn sun had shown,
The harvest mice have scurried through,
The empty fields of morning dew,
Where once the corn had grown.
The bails of hay lay proud and high,
Against an ever reddening sky,
The harvest work is over,
And fires within the hearth will glow,
And warmth within our hearts will grow,
As fields fill up with clover.
It's wonderful to taste our crop,
To know God's bounty does not stop,
The harvest time of giving,
And in our hearts we celebrate,
The earth's rich goodness, which dictates,
The standard of our living.
Thanks go to God for all his treat,
To help us grow the food we eat,
And for the worker's toil,
That planted seeds that turned to food,
The weather's change from bad to good,
And gifts enriched by soil.