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Created on: September 30, 2010 Last Updated: October 11, 2010
A hapless face
calling out to the sun
A resting place
when the journey is done
No feelings, no heartache
a solitary stand
Nothing at stake
a life not so grand
A soul less face
unknown friend or foe
Alone in his place
The scarecrow
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Poetry: Scarecrows
The farmers plough, prepare and sow the land
Then plant a scarecrow in a central spot
To guard the seed from thieving crows,
by Jenifer Rose
Alone in the cornfield
He stands night and day
His sole purpose
To keep crows away
Filled with straw
Dressed in old clothes
Silent little sentinels
Dressed in threadbare clothes and straw
Protectors of the corn they thought
Yet they’d protect
by Scott Scherr
It's not the substance
that they fear,
nor his reach
when they draw near.
It's the knowing
that he's there,
a constant, chilling,
Scarecrows
The farmer toiled all night and day.
He plowed the fields and stacked the hay.
He planted corn that grew real
View All Articles on: Poetry: Scarecrows
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