A Time of Harvest
The days of dying summer heat give way to Autumn’s chill.
The crispness in the air is sweet; the moon too full, must spill.
The refulgent Harvest moon marks shorter days, longer nights
Ending the growing season before harsh, hard winter bites.
A time of harvesting, of sending workers to the field,
Before winter’s killing cold, to reap the year’s rich yield.
The harvest truly plenteous; our bank’s full measure near.
Rejoicing in endless blessings, we pray our words He’ll hear.
The season’s intense colors complement our Autumn feast.
Wreaths of boldly-colored leaves encircle garden and beast.
Our love and faith join hand-in-hand to thank Him for these things,
Celebrating triumphant hope, and joy, that Autumn brings.
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