The sun is cooler now, the summer’s done
and green tomatoes sit upon the vine
all chances of them ripening are gone.
But autumn brings her own bounty of fruits
the countryside brings forth its harvest time
before we pull the plants up by the roots.
We bag and bottle, freeze and jar our gains
to use our produce through the winter time
And ploughmen till the land to sow their grains.
In winter’s inhospitable cold soil
beneath the crisp top coat of outer rind
begins again the farmer’s annual toil.
For out of dark and cold unfriendly clay
and even though we dismiss her from mind
The Spring will come and live another day.