A Time to Harvest

Willing hands on harvest go
Weeding weeds between the rows
Sheaves reaped from what I sow
I feed the scraps to hungry crows

The golden orb that heat the soil
Cracked without the water flow
Needless labour spent in toil
Sweat that fell behind the plough

For the furrow is barren once more
Awaiting the falling of the snow
Winter in here and there as well
To return encumbered by the fall

Dream I always of spring eternal
Where youth yield fruits some more
Where childhood innocence is a shield
So I may enjoy the seasons forever