Day of the Reaper

about life.

Golden the morning, the sun on our hair

We go to the fields and the corn she is fair.

Golden she stands, and golden she'll fall

And fill up our barns soon to feed one and all.

A day and a day for the reaping it takes

And we stack it in stooks and a picture it makes.

 

All day then they work on the hard threshing floor

All day in the sun, until youth is no more.

All day and all day, for the rest of our life

For I am the reaper, the thresher is wife.

But golden our days were, and velvet our night

In pleasure I think it, as oft as I might.

 

For now I am old and my muscle grown weak

And some they may say that my outlook is bleak.

But Reaper is coming, again, I can see

And I scarce can complain that the crop will be me

For this is my gathering time, I'll not stay,

Though I be cut down, still I lived our my day

And my day it was golden, and sunlit, and bright

And I'll take it all with me to light up my night.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A very nice poem full of meaning and nice imagery...Well penned...:)