Harvest Time

Alison L. JamesPoetry

The field of wheat that gently sways
Is fruit sprung from the land,
To reap what is spread before you
Requires your working hand.

The seed you’ve sown has grown full height,
It’s reached full maturation,
It evidences love and care
And immutable motivation.

Sons and Daughters, step out and see,
The fields are ripe and white,
It’s time to gather the harvest
And give thanks for creative might.