Feather's Miscellany: Harvest Hymn
John Waddington-Feather brings us a new hymn for this harvest season.
Gold the heavy cornfield glistens
in the burning noonday sun;
still the weighty air which listens
to the constant thieving hum
of marauding bee which snatches
honey from the headland trove:
poppies, cornflowers, purple vetches,
daisies, fireweed, rape-seed rogue.
Full the fields to all their edges,
bountiful with richest gifts,
freely strewn through ditch and hedges –
soul and eye the vista lifts.
These for nothing, God, you proffer,
food and drink that we may live;
we, in turn, have much to offer,
fill us with the grace to give.
John Waddington-Feather ©
