Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Harvest Time



Look up; look up, the Master pleas
A gleaming harvest waits
Oh, who will garner in the sheaves
Before it is too late

Go forth; go forth, His urgent charge
Reverberates in love
As He beholds the threshing-floor
In courtyards up above

A precious, priceless span
Oh, who will labor in the field
To gather while he can?

Look up; look up, the Master pleas
There is so much to do
The harvest bends with ripened wheat

© Janet Martin

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