In fields where sunlight drapes the land,
Golden hues of grain expand.
The whispering wind begins to sing,
As autumn’s gentle breezes bring.

The earth beneath, a treasure chest,
Where seeds were sown, now richly blessed.
Farmers toil with hands so wise,
Beneath the vast and endless skies.

The harvest moon, a guiding light,
Illuminates the tranquil night.
With every sheaf and every grain,
The fruits of labor, sweet and plain.

In harmony, the season’s grace,
A time to gather, to embrace.
The cycle ends, yet starts anew,
In fields of gold beneath the blue.