Harvest Time

Autumn offers much to the senses. What joy at cooler temps! Harvest time & moon - WOW!

We near the end of growing days
with harvest gathered soon.
We bind the wheat in great displays
as larger grows the moon.

The evening darkness dims the sun
more quickly in the day.
It seems that evil's newly won
with nothing on display.

The crispness of the evening air,
not swelt'ring hot as was,
a symphony of cricket fare
to brighten dark night's cause.

A roaring fire on prairie flat
toasts weiners and the s'mores.
Some silent friend's where it's at,
the bliss of out-of-doors.

'Tis darkest 'fore the break of day.
Dark seasons prelude spring.
The times and animals obey
The Lord to Whom we sing.

How mostly quiet night can be!
These cricket sounds can paint
the canvas of a noisy sea
for sinner and for saint.

Some cars add sounds to insect bows
fast wheels upon the road.
A peacefulness that God best knows
made for His child's abode.

The shocks of wheat, the popcorn's gold and black,
the pumpkin now cut with orange loud thump.
The bounty it banishes the thoughts of all lack
as satisfied feasters find sleep in a lump.

The harvest moon, a nightlight bright,
it fills the darkened sky.
The white large orb's a sight!
This visual lullaby.

The harvest time means fields can rest,
lie dormant through the cold,
that in the spring 'twill face each test
when new crops shine as bold.

word count - 233
line count - 40

by Jay O’Toole
on October 11th, 2025


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