Harvest Time

Harvest Time

I tread this path as many others have done before,
Looking ahead I see yew trees clustered round the door.
The heavy scent of flowers gives life an extra pace,
I cross the threshold and know I have entered a holy place.

Colours abound, terra cotta and varied shades of brown,
Tranquillity surrounds us almost without sounds.
The congregation of many denominations is of one mind this day,
And together, we give thanks for this bountiful harvest array.

Each year we celebrate this festival, for it is harvest time,
Everyone has done their best and the decorations are sublime.
On the table, set for this occasion, are apple pies and cider,
Our hearts are full of joy and we sing praises to the provider.

As I sit to give my appreciation I gaze above the crowd,
A stream of light from a small window calls to me aloud.
I feel that there is something there is it from heaven above?
I truly believe that it is God, sending down his love.

With songs in our hearts and our minds filled with delight,
Our thoughts are with the world, praying for a peaceful night.
As we leave thankful, that the day has gone well,
Stepping out for home, still gripped by that moving spell

Roy Coppin