Mhall46184@aol.com
Children at the Harvest
A little girl with basket held in hand
Can choose and pick a bouquet in the spring
And play in peace on the warming-sun land
With flower-colors to sort and songs to sing
A little older and the strong girl now
Helps with the harvest in September’s haze
And through hard work with tractor, rake, and plow
She grows through honest work and well-earned praise
Unless –
Before a screen a girl decays, beguiled,
For now the screen is the machine that harvests
the child
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