The trees in the orchards no longer bear fruit,
the grapes have been plucked from the vine.
Apples and pears stowed away in the lofts,
and grapes on their way to make wine.
Shelves stacked with pickles and jars of preserves,
Greens blanched, the freezers to fill,
hoards of potatoes and carrots in store,
now safe from the cold winter`s chill.
The sun ripened crops are all gathered in,
the combines have laid bare the fields,
the earth is at rest in its cycle of sleep
`til spring starts another year`s yield.
Festival services held everywhere,
the scents of the harvest abound;
we offer our thanks for this bounteous earth
and to all those who work on the land.
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