Bless the work of our hands,

The hands that wield the scythes,

The scythes that reap the corn,

The corn that’s ground to flour,

The flour that’s baked to bread,

The bread that feeds the folk,

The folk who worship the gods,

The gods who bless our work.

By Diane “Emerald” Bronowicz

The Hayfield by Ford Madox Brown

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