I had a job not picking the grapes!
God, whose farm is all creation,
Take the gratitude we give;
Take the finest of our harvest,
Crops we grow that all may live.
Take our ploughing, seeding, reaping,
Hopes and fears of sun and rain,
All our thinking, planning, waiting,
Ripened in this fruit and grain.
All our labour, all our watching,
All our calendar of care,
In these crops of your creation,
Take, O God: they are our prayer.
Lovely words by John Artlott (1914-91) who was a famous cricket correspondent on BBC TV.