ONLY THE SCARE-CROW REMAINS

My mind was raging in flames of sorrow,

Like a fully fledged wild fire,

So my feet compelled me to take a walk,

Across the vast splendid corn fields,

To ease my troubled broken heart,

Calm my blazing thoughts,

May be find a consolation of sorts,

I took easy slow steps,

A cool gentle breeze following from behind,

Whispering in my ear,

You’re going to be alright son,

Love comes and goes,

She’s not the only fine grain on the cob,

You will find an even better one,

Then I got to the spot where we would meet,

A round circle at the middle of the field,

Adorned with carefully slashed dried leaf seats,

Shielded all round beautifully by green grown plants,

And a fierce silent soldier standing still at the side,

There we would converge,

Just the two of us,

On most evenings to recount the day,

But honestly those very moments were its highlight,

When we would chat heart to heart,

Laugh snuggle and lock into passionate kisses,

And out of our breaths would come the hisses,

I will always love you,

Sometimes we would just lie there,

Facing up holding hands,

Watching the sun sink into an orange reddish horizon,

Or we would make fun of Mr. Corn Man,

His ugly nylon face,

With two hands one leg all wooden,

But he guarded well our meeting den,

With him the crops were safe,

And so was my lonely soul that evening,

His leg was buried deep in the soil,

So I was at least certain the scare-crow was going nowhere,