Before him a fulsome harvest stands
the sky burns blue, the sea shines bright.
A honed scythe glints in his skilful hands
and though the work ahead is heavy
and sweat will tease his brow
the crop he looks to gathering
is come to fruition now,
so why should the reaper be grim?
He thinks of the seed and it's sowing,
the welcome rain, grand days full light,
anticipation growing
remembering tough and tender plans,
imaginings and pleasure
the job is done, the love passed on,
before him untold treasure.
So why should the reaper be grim?
YOU ARE READING
Cuttlebone and Cobwebs
PoetryThe beauty of everything from in the land sea and sky from Cuttlebones to Cobwebs
