Harvest

Man made keys to jump out of
fairy tales of peace and splendour
wistful thoughts behind

A hundred words lock deep into
dancing waves of peace and splendour
shadows sharpen

A time to harvest,
a time for joy,
a time to see if things would grow again,
a time for laughter,
a time to cry,
a time to wander.

A time to gather,
a time to sing,
a time to look at all the pretty things,
a time for sighing
a time to die,
a time to wonder.

Copyright Dawn Fung
Completed April 2007