~ Harvest In The Heartland ~


The flaxen wheat is blowing
Beneath a turquoise sky,
Each seeded head, now golden,
Is treasure for the eye.

A sea of bearded bounty,
Awaits the reaper's might,
As calloused hands are busied,
And labor through the night.

It's harvest in the heartland,
A time when earth and man,
Join as one together,
Each destined in a plan…

The golden waves are calling,
And beckon each reaper's hand…
"Come and gather my offerings…"
The blessings from the land!




Sharon Frye © 2004
used with permission
Heroes of the Heart
 

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