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Feather's Miscellany: Harvest Hymn

John Waddington-Featherís harvest hymn reminds us that we too have things to give.

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 Ė
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 ©


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