This is a piece that began growing in my mind as I drove home from Lancaster during the day on New Year’s Eve after I had spent a nice holiday vacation with my family. On the way back to Philly on Route 23 I drove past a large open, empty field with two scarecrows hung on sticks blowing in the chilly December wind. By the time I arrived home, most of this poem had constructed itself in my head. Hope you enjoy!


An enraptured moon of pumpkin-harvest orange,

gently caressed the fields with a soothing lunar flow,

early winter now picked clean by sleeping farmers

and a flock of overly fat, but sassy crows.

Upon the stroke of midnight, lonely clouds shall dance

as a glittering chorus of stars sing in perfect harmony.

It’s time for anxious lovers to cast a wistful glance

and let their deep desires sail upon romantic seas.

He hung forlornly upon a cross of wooden sticks,

this man of yellow straw and tattered clothes.

Waiting patiently all year, he stared through eyes transfixed

at a lonely figure clad in a torn dress of faded primrose.

She stared with urgent longing at this man within her dreams,

a long and lonely year gone by without feeling his tender touch.

The tingling rush of fingertips like soft and velvet moonbeams,

or the whispering caress of lips she sorely missed so much.

At midnight, stardust rained down from an amber-painted sky,

glowing brightly in a breathtaking display of sparkling tears.

Two rekindled heartbeats sharing a note of grateful sighs,

their eyes alive to dance on yet another New Year’s ~~~ Eve.

Frayed shirt, ragged pants and straw hat now replaced

with a tuxedo of brilliant black and satin lapels.

Moving quickly across the field he held her slender waist,

to welcome her inviting lips to his, entranced within her spell.

Lush auburn hair cascaded softly down around her breasts,

the blue silk of her gown whispering a quiet ~~~ “I love you.”

Dancing to the waltz of scarecrows, he held her to his chest

within a tight embrace, praying this night would but continue.

Just one sweet waltz this evening was all they were allowed to dance.

With the music sadly fading, they slowly returned to their places.

But right before their eyes went shut, they cast a tearful glance

to see their loving smiles still etched upon their faces.

© Kerry L. Marzock