A Scarecrow Poem.
Walter de la Mare
All winter through I bow my head
beneath the driving rain;
the North Wind powders me with snow
and blows me black again;
at midnight ‘neath a maze of stars
I flame with glittering rime,
and stand above the stubble, stiff
as mail at morning-prime.
But when that child called Spring, and all
his host of children come,
scattering their buds and dew upon
these acres of my home,
some rapture in my rags awakes;
I lift void eyes and scan
the sky for crows, those ravening foes,
of my strange master, Man.
I watch him striding lank behind
his clashing team, and know
soon will the wheat swish body high
where once lay a sterile snow;
soon I shall gaze across a sea
of sun-begotten grain,
which my unflinching watch hath sealed
for harvest once again.
Brilliant!! 🙂 Excellent poem.
October 30, 2014 at 1:08 am
Hello 🙂 🙂
Thank you , very pleased you enjoyed 🙂 🙂
October 30, 2014 at 12:59 pm
It is a beautiful one!!!!
October 30, 2014 at 10:20 am
Hello Ilargia 🙂 🙂
Thank you , he will be Happy 🙂 🙂 🙂
October 30, 2014 at 1:03 pm
… wonder where Hal is now …
What a lovely poem too Nigel .
October 30, 2014 at 10:32 am
Hello Poppy 🙂 🙂
Yes I wonder , I hope he is in a warm shed getting ready for next spring 🙂 🙂
Thanks Poppy 🙂 🙂
October 30, 2014 at 1:00 pm
I like it! Wonderful poem and photo.
October 30, 2014 at 11:10 pm
Hello Dawn 🙂 – Thank you , very peased you enjoyed 🙂 🙂
November 2, 2014 at 2:40 pm