Scarecrow's Challenge

Beware, you ratty featherbags
Who hover up my path,
With a patient vigil's gaze
O'er this maize,
You cannot escape my wrath.
Be off, you cawing hoodlums,
Do not flap and flutter close,
My dry fingers will ensnare
Those who dare
To invade my husky rows.
I treasure tranquil hours
In the mellow days of fall,
Sunbeams warm my flannel sleeves,
As crispy leaves
Surround my overalls.
But then I hear the scolding cries,
The sudden raucous din,
As you marauding oafs descend
And yet again
The endless fight begins.
Such ragged, rough rapscallions,
You're only cowards, base,
For when the breezes make me jig,
All you pigs
Will scatter into space.
Be wary of the pitchfork
Which I mercilessly wield,
I will smite you from the sky
If you try
To plunder my October field.
I've guarded through the summer nights
And seen my kernels grow,
I've stood here 'neath the harvest moon,
And very soon
I'll stand here in the snow.
So listen close, you vagabonds,
Before you harshly jeer,
Even when these stalks are brown,
And trampled down,
I will still be here.

Through the 3rd Eye was supported in its inception by the Grand Rapids Humanities Council and is currently made possible by continued volunteer effort and private support. Copyright 2013.