Sunday, September 1, 2013

A POEM FOR SEPTEMBER



THE SCARECROW PRINCE
by Terry Webb Harshman

A scarecrow stands
     among the corn;
his hair is wild,
     his pants are torn,
and on his head,
     a hat quite worn --
crumpled, faded,
     and forlorn.

But when the sun
     shines down on him,
his golden hair
     and friendly grin,
it seems to me
     a prince is born --

Royal Keeper of
     the corn.

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2 comments:

  1. ChristineSeptember 1, 2013 at 9:40 AM

    I want you to know that every time I flip my calendar, I think of you.
    Happy September!

    ReplyDelete
  2. DebraSeptember 1, 2013 at 12:58 PM

    I really like this. It sooo describes the scarecrow. I kinda like the idea of him being a "prince". Didn't we all like the one in Oz?

    ReplyDelete

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