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The Joy of Harvest (A Poem) By Sis. Abigail Ndubueze

Psalm 126 vs 6

Who are these like warriors come

Marching, stampeding the field?

Battered, wounded, their plow weild, 

Their countenance bearing no form. 

 Their palms the brunt of toil,

They look not left nor right,

Strength fastened on the soil,

They toil all day and night.

These are they who labour, 

Drifting like ships on sail

Waits to rest on its harbour, 

Praying their strength not to fail. 

In the golden field of today,

Lo the corn blade sprout,

Soon shall come the harvest,

And the reapers with the sickle

Shall the field of grain plow? 

Now the barn is filled with corn, 

Gladness where once they mourn, 

With golden sheaves not a few. 

They gather their wheat into the barn,

And with flutes and harps they rejoice,

All fears, all wounds healed,

They that sowed in tears.

Now with joy reaps.

It’s harvest time

The husband man chants!

No more tears and wants, 

For then the joy bells shall chime!

(Inspired by the Holy Spirit)

Written by Sis. Abigail Ndubueze (Team Watchmen)

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