Amber Waves


Oh, fair stalks of ripened grain

Flowing like the lion’s mane

Stirring like a golden sea

As west winds blow the plain


There in yellowed tapestry

I feel the joy of being free

The rooted, fully fruited

As far as the eye can see


But soon will come the hand

To reap you from your land

And the beauty will be lost

‘Come barren where I stand


Oh, fair stalks of ripened grain

In winter, you cannot here remain

But seasons pass, as they should

In autumn, we will meet again


12 Responses to “Amber Waves”
  1. beth says:

    and that is so lucky, that it doesn’t end, just takes a rest

  2. What a wonderfully vivid picture you painted in my mind with these words. When I lived in Lancaster County, I was always looking at the fields of corn, wheat and tobacco from the time they first pushed through the soil until the time all was harvested and the fields were barren. Winter came, and snow covered that bare soil, but our minds always knew that it was only temporary, and crops would rise again in the spring.

  3. Beautiful! The precise words, the perfect rhyme and a clear, unmistakable image! Wonderful work my friend!

  4. When amber waves, I wave back.👋

  5. kristianw84 says:

    I’m grateful that autumn always returns!

  6. jonicaggiano says:

    Beautifully written Brad. There is something about the fields that make me happy and this piece describes that feeling so perfectly. I watch the crops and pray for the farmers who are small ones here in NC. Sending big hugs and love, Joni

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