Friday, October 03, 2003
HARVEST
Summer ends with the sound of crickets,
Frost is not far off,
Time to harvest the fruits of one's labor.
Time to spend moments with a friend,
Build an inviting fire,
And accept the smiling Buddha to dwell within.
Summer ends with the sound of crickets,
Frost is not far off,
Time to harvest the fruits of one's labor.
Time to spend moments with a friend,
Build an inviting fire,
And accept the smiling Buddha to dwell within.
