A straw man stood fixed upon timber firm,
gazing at Autumn's gilded, moonlit prize.
He, the king of Earth and the winding worm,
she, the pale darling of cold starry skies.
Left in fallow field of harvest' soiled gown,
with sun bleached woolen coat so neglected.
Besotted by her face in freckled frown,
though light falsely owned in Sun reflected.
Few seasons counted in scarecrow's race,
lonely journey, long eons moon must know.
She left locked ever more in Earth's embrace,
while he lay fallen soon in Winter's snow.
Jealous moon keeps watch o'er his button eyes,
from Venus, Mars, and star's envied night skies.
22 October 2019 - New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest -Sponsored by Emile Pinet
STRAW MAN
I poked the straw man
He remained fixed, unmoved
emotionless.
“There, I said, once again you ignored
me’. Then I felt tears flowing down
to gently touch my tongue.
Soon after he answered…
“Don’t you know by now your life is
destined to be what it is; why do you
expect more”?
Because…because….
Because what? More struggle, more sadness,
more disappointment, more pain?”
No. More answers, more meaning, more insight.
Why? Your mind can only absorb so much and
by some miracle you get what you want, then what?
Will you be happier, more content, more peaceful?
The straw man looked askew, more teary eyed,
then turned over and lay silent .
CAK 6-2-2016