Adoption Poem
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Posted by Denny the Stampin and Scrappin Message Board on November 19, 1998

My Harvest

I did not plant you, true.

But when the season is done,

When the alternative prayers for sun

and for rain are counted,

When the pain of weeding

And the pride of watching are through,

Then I will hold you high,

A shining sheaf above the thousand seeds grown wild.

Not my planting,

But, by heaven,

My harvest--

My child.