Beneath the golden autumn skies,
Fields of amber waves arise,
The harvest moon begins to glow,
As whispers of the wind bestow.
The farmers toil from dawn till dusk,
Gathering grains with endless trust,
Each kernel tells a story grand,
Of natureâs gift and laborâs hand.
The orchards yield their crimson fruit,
With flavors rich, the senses suit,
Baskets full, a bounty shared,
A feast of love, with hearts prepared.
As twilight falls, and stars ignite,
The fields rest under silver light,
The harvest done, the seasonâs thread,
We dream of spring and days ahead.