Bales and bullocks now we thrash!

Maize and wheat in bundles lash!

Time to gather nature in,

Free from rain and wind so grim.

Men and women gird their loins,

Trying not to strain their groins.

Pulling produce by the pound,

While the farm boys horse around!

 

Fields of hay were swiftly sown,

Wrapped in plastic once they’re mown.

Lengthy parsnips fetch a price

Courgettes always will suffice.

Broad beans overflow the bowl,

Peas in pods to cheer the soul,

Marrows long and onions small,

Decorate the church and hall.

 

Fruits of every kind have grown,

Bramley apples by the stone,

Quinces, pears and sweet white grapes,

Some of interesting shapes.

From this plunder we can bake

Strudel, crumble, pies and cake,

Making jams and jellies sweet,

Bottled now for winter treat.

 

Then there’s all the wine to do,

And the home-made beer to brew.

Pea-pod brandy is quite nice

With a cube or three of ice.

Swede and parsley ale can be

Just the thing for parish tea,

Courgette Muscadet is dry,

Bringing tears to every eye.

 

Every year we gather in

Juniper and sloes for gin,

Mint for tea and roasted lamb,

Honey for the slow-baked ham.

New potatoes on the hob,

Butter drips from corn on cob,

Cabbage green and turnips white,

Carrots help us see at night.

 

So we thank the Lord our God

For the produce from the sod,

Lengthy days make farmers tough

Just so we can get enough.

Thus we sing our Harvest praise,

Celebrating shorter days,

And when snow doth fill the air,

We’ll have food and drink to share.