Harvest
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Harvest
True fruit matured
the golden sheaves
weighed down do bough
Soon they shall be harvested.
Singly we are cut off
returned to our Maker
the fields grow pale
little does remain.
The winter white magnifies
a piece of golden straw
alone blowing in the wind
This soon to be plucked.
Nothing goes to waste
the Raven lines its nest
each element serves a purpose
for which it was created.
the golden sheaves
weighed down do bough
Soon they shall be harvested.
Singly we are cut off
returned to our Maker
the fields grow pale
little does remain.
The winter white magnifies
a piece of golden straw
alone blowing in the wind
This soon to be plucked.
Nothing goes to waste
the Raven lines its nest
each element serves a purpose
for which it was created.
great parallel
wonderful parallel you have painted and woven within imagery
thoroughly enjoyed
Thanks
Fenny
thoroughly enjoyed
Thanks
Fenny
Page 1 of 1
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