Oh sweetest harvest time <br />Now come to the forest and sing <br />Its grass is now in prime <br />And sways to the sounding bring <br /> <br />The distance skies are away <br />In cloudy drifting spirit <br />Here is only summer's day <br />In its blue faraway through lit <br /> <br />Such an art is every flower <br />In yours fields and ground <br />With longings to meet the hour <br />That nowhere else is found <br /> <br />The freshness gardens colors <br />Are full of hope and try <br />And while the breeze wind hollers <br />Birds’ sprit flies up the sky <br /> <br />The far-off mornings fade <br />Those once were in stars of glisten <br />When this new dawn is made <br />And every ones ears in listen <br /> <br />This time is always aspiring dear <br />Of giving its appeal to the eye <br />With everything of beauty near <br />Those never to the senses lie <br /> <br />Oh sweetest harvest time <br />Now come to the forest and sing <br />The grass is now in prime <br />Its swings to the sounding bring<br /><br />Peter S. Quinn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-sweetest-harvest-time/
