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Ripe for The Picking

by Deborah Ann Belka © 2017

Oh, Lord I can feel,
it’s almost harvest time
and the fields for reaping
are more than prime.

Oh, Lord I can feel,
the coolness of the day
bringing the Good News
that You are on the way.

I can see the crops,
are ripe for the picking
I can hear the clock
speeding up its ticking.

I can see the falling,
of fruit from the True Vine
I can smell the bitterness
of rancid, rotten wine.

Oh, Lord I can feel,
the fields are all but prime
I sense You can return . . .
just about any time!

Revelation 14:15

” And another angel came
out of the temple,
crying with a loud voice
to him that sat on the cloud,
Thrust in thy sickle, and reap:
for the time is come for
thee to reap; for the
harvest of the earth is ripe.”

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Click Here to contact Deborah Ann Belka to request permission to use this poem.