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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


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