Down in the valley it stood,
That old farm house made of wood.
Surrounded by trees of bright array,
Leaves turning on an autumns day.
Living on the farm was great
Even when harvest time was late.
Bringing in the apples and pumpkins,
Time spent there was always something.
Short days and long nights,
When fall came with it’s delights.
Hayrides were always fun,
After days of autumn sun.
When I think of harvest time
I think of those left behind.
On that day when Jesus Comes
Many will be left in their homes.
Not because the sowers were late,
Or never nourished them for the day.
But there are those who do ignore
The need for prayer and giving more..
The fields were ripe and ready to pick,
Harvest was plenty and rows were thick.
But now in the valley down below,
There are only buildings there to show.
Do what you can to reap the harvest,
Reach out to souls and do your best.
The day is coming we know not when,
The Lord of the harvest will come again.
© Shy Barr
October 13, 2006
Matthew 13: 37 ~ 39
He answered and said unto them, He that soweth the good seed is the Son of Man;
The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one;
The enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels. |
