It was a sunlit autumn, dying
Foliage was not raked for days,
Bark was gnawn at, soup was tasteless,
Scarecrows had been lumbered away
Amidst the harvest, thriven and orange
Did there hang, a scarecrow, stark
Though this one, not in effigy
With straw hanging off his head. He tips his hat you. As a thanks for a fantastic view. With a body given it's due. Similarities bore. And this is what of the scarecrow I truly adore. Great Poem, Man.
I just lost words to really say great poem seem to be an understatement much love for this one Now thank you so much for the invite to read such a poem
Great first stanza....love the surprising line soup was tasteless. But.... You lost me at thriven? It's the archaic past perfect form for thrive, no longer used in modern English, so it really doesn't fit? Not sure I get it?
Beautiful and it craved with a great picture, Matthew keep writing more and the poem like this is such amazing to share..it simple short but the effect just more.it's a touch of smile_Unwritten Soul
Great poem. I can really picture the scenery. You're a great writer.
Lovely poem, I read it aloud and I rock my head to its melody, 'till the last line..the sudden stop, opens to me a door of wonders..Lovely write, thank you for share.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
metaphors are used marvelously, the poem has a greater inner meaning too...using of words is fantastic, the style is crispy, and the poem has a quality of originality.....top marks 10....please read some of mine