On my walk, today I spied
A large green army marching by--
Cornstalks standing six feet high,
Their tassels spiking a light blue sky.
Tucked below a forest of leaves,
Then saw the midget cavalry--
Horseheads tied to every post,
Each a yellow mane to boast.
There an air-drop they await,
A secret shower that infiltrates--
That turns their manes to red from gold,
And helps to make their horses bold.
As down the road I hurry fast,
Ranks of soldiers muster past--
They never stop to greet or cry
A message or a fond goodbye.
That army marching down the hill --
Camouflaged there with great skill--
Turns to amber from bright green
While still in tight formation seen.
first published in Time of Singing
first published in Time of Singing
©2000 Bonnie Manion