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.