Short Cornstalks Poems

cicada magic
happy chirping on cornstalks
july orchestra...

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cornstalks bleached dry
weeds have gone to seed
fields and gardens...

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brittle cornstalks
crackle in the heavy wind --
at dusk the cattle low...

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burnt orange leaves on vines
cover a fence in autumn
spiderweb playground 

a rippling field bends
tall cornstalks dance head to head
wild rhythms of fall

eerie sounds at dusk
send a tingling chill of fright
first cat fight of fall

...

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Prisms through haze,

disguise tawny fields

with a vague stained glass glaze,

leaving many small suns 

circling the cornstalks

throughout the maize




________________________________
For Nette's Contest: "Veil" -- Poems of Compression
By Carrie Richards...

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~ Day's sealed ~

The sun's made its turn
   Farmer's chores almost done
It's afternoon's downside
   Kick back, stretch and yawn  

Afternoon heat shimmers
   over cornstalks and hay
Nearing the end 
   of another workday

Gather up some stray eggs
   Feed the cows one last meal
The shadows now long
   Come sunset ~ day's sealed...

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The coffin lid slowly rises, opens
Followed by skeletons and ghosts galore
To the side are the pumpkins with their grins
The scarecrows with their ravens to implore
All gather at the cornstalks shedding sins
They wander off to some homes to explore
They spring fear straight to the hearts of many
Who run for life, pleasing this company

Russell Sivey...

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Spring

Green buds on beach trees
Bluebells carpet forest floor
New born baby cries

Summer

Sleepy afternoon
Fly humming at window pane
Cornstalks bent with gold

Autumn

Ghostly morning mist
Blue smoke curling heavenwards
Incense of burnt leaves

Winter

Starry velvet sky
Silent snowflakes drifting down
Wolf howls at the moon...

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I can see a 
pale green 
farmhouse 
against the 
nearly neon 
vegetation 
of the cornfields. 
Soybean sprouts 
are shooting 
up here and 
there. 
  
In this place, 
there is no 
existentialism 
or angst 
questing 
against our 
sanity. 
  
There is no 
god or God. 
  
Just the cornstalks, 
the soybean sprouts, 
and the pale green 
farmhouse 
in the distance....

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The cornstalks vanished overnight
Shaven fields once flowing, green and gold
Now Dad’s evening whisker stubble 
Ghost limbs of the cornfield

Flocks of nomadic Ravens
Feast on the invisible
And scowl with those empty black eyes
Impervious to man’s judgment

And I think,

There is nothing as beautiful 
Than the first snow on a barren field
Shadows playing with the evening light
And dance among the vacant mounds...

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Ribbed  strands of wheat across the plain
bend at the knees, to drink the rain
in windfalls
Brown from harvest, drought and blight,
are cornstalks spinning through the night
like windmills
The dry stalks slant and dangle leaves
and rattle music through the trees
in windstorms




__________________________________________
Written for Nette's Contest: Fire, Earth, Wind
By Carrie Richards 11/20/14...

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Rolling hills, verdant meadows
Acres lined in evergreens
Brightly coloured maples, flaunting 
Clad in yellows, reds, tangerines
Farmer's fields, neat and freshly-cut
Straw sheaves, twined and baled
Hardy mums, tall grasses, purple cabbages and kale
Cornstalks, and sturdy, weathered mats
Dress and welcome entrance ways
Pumpkins, gourds and sunflowers adorn
Stacked upon rustic wooden crates
The beauty of the season is upon us
Happy Fall Y'all!

September 22, 2020
@katladyt_...

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