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| {royalty free photo} |
Walk softly, O man, past an acre of wheat,
With awe in your heart and your face.
Walk humbly, O man, and with reverent feet,
For strength slumbers here - Can't you feel its heart beat?
And beauty's own couch is an acre of wheat,
And holiness dwells in this place.
With awe in your heart and your face.
Walk humbly, O man, and with reverent feet,
For strength slumbers here - Can't you feel its heart beat?
And beauty's own couch is an acre of wheat,
And holiness dwells in this place.
Breathe gently, O breeze, on the grain-heavy ears,
That drank long and deep of spring rain.
O breeze, ripple gently the yellow-tipped spears.
Our little ones, caught in the rush of the years,
Need growth that is stored in the wheat's golden ears
All mother-ripe now with smooth grain.
That drank long and deep of spring rain.
O breeze, ripple gently the yellow-tipped spears.
Our little ones, caught in the rush of the years,
Need growth that is stored in the wheat's golden ears
All mother-ripe now with smooth grain.
Many blessings to you all and may have many bounties to celebrate!
Sláinte!
Laurel
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