Cornfields Poems - Poems about Cornfields

Cornfields full; midst green blades glaze As summer lends a hand with its golden blaze. They sway to the wind, direction it blows Golden cobs of grass in pride simply shows. At sunset they cower to the creeping dark Yet, loses not its gleam and dignified spark. Roasted on spit fire till gold turns light brown Enjoyed with lime, spices in a...

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We chased young love through the cornfields, wild and free, A golden maze where laughter danced on the breeze. Each stalk a secret, whispering dreams to the sea, As sunbeams painted our hearts with ease. We were fireflies flickering in twilight's embrace, Chasing shadows that tangled in the dusk. With every step, we left behind time and space, Our spirits entwined, a...

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Cornfields are ouchy, I know. I am from the corn state – Iowa. Corn grows on tall stalks, out in a field that has gobs of fat green worms. You need a tractor to get through it. Or a tank. But farmers do not have tanks. You cannot see anything except corn stalks when you get there; rows and rows of...

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Faded murmurs soothe new twilight as a gentle smoke blows around the wind, mild circles hushed by Virginia maize along a dampened lane, rainy lane bringing me back home with comfort, after a calm storm light and breezy with the falling of ashen branches, ruffling the threads of sky with corn husks and a tender whisper cradles the farm rising like bread...

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They look down from their penthouse and turn up their nose. They see us all as a murder of crows. Bunch of pests and foul nuisances trying to eat of their crops. Not sons and daughters and mommas and pops. They don't want to hear of our lower class rambling. Why shan't we continue our financial gambling? Their scarecrow is...

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She runs in the cornfields Got twigs in her hair Playing with her dog tilly Her only friend out there She grew up on a farm Fish by the water fall Likes playing in the barn Looking cute doing it all Driving to Manhattan Is a New York City boy Going to a show on Broadway He is self employed He’s opening a...

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Late summer clouds Over golden countryside Fields of corn and barley Our mother nature provides Along a country path The sheepdog guides the flock A young boy stops to drink Before the grazing gates are unlocked The farmer boys father Aside his field of corn Shaping up to harvest Another crop reborn This picture of late summer Golden, greens and fawns With autmun on our doorstep A new season brings...

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Mother warned Never make love in a cornfield For the corn-- has ears And they just may tell... Upon hearing this I laughed and replied mom They might have ears But they do not have lips With which to speak... Not so fast, Careful daughter said she with a smile They have husks that are tough And when shucked the...

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