Harvest Time Poem by Babatunde Aremu

Drops of heaven's sweats
Kiss mother earth
Percolating its layers
To revive buried seeds

Tender plants sprout
Their new leaves dance
To the whispering of winds
And the acts of sun rays

Flowers bud,
Fruits are conceived,
Husbandman hopes
For a bumper harvest

Suddenly, the drops ceased
Rivers recede down into their courses
Leaves on trees are fallen
For mature fruits to succeed

Now the husbandman rejoices
The sickles are sharpened
To winnow the seeds from the chaff
For transfer to the barns

Hurray! its harvest time
For those who labored
And for the indolent
Its time to bemoan

When you sow at right time
Your season of abundance cometh
If you fold your hands always
You reap nothing in returns