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The Harvest

Harvests entail only the ripe

None tries to harvest the immature

Patience need be put in pipe

It is embodied in nature

Then your sweat you will wipe

Best harvest one is sure

It be the farmer's work and type

Great granaries be secure.

Yet there be one reaper for sure

His harvest is the mature and unripe


Be not a lover of the world

It passes like a cloud

Thoughts cheat and misguide

Forever none will live in the world

You cannot by age abide

They pass on the young and old

Be ready in this world so wild

Lest you be caught in a situation so odd

Yet there be one reaper for sure

His harvest is the mature and unripe

Death be a bad reaper

It does not age discriminate

Death is the worst ripper

Tearing down even the intestate

Be as ready as a chopper

To fly and land without being desperate

Though you have saved a copper

Ensure you die testate

Yet there be one reaper for sure

His harvest is the mature and unripe.

About this poem

Death is a bad reaper. Why harvest the ripe and the unripe?

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Submitted by baby_p on June 04, 2021

Modified by baby_p

54 sec read

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    "The Harvest" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 26 Jun 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/101751/the-harvest>.

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