Visualizing using poems[1]
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The scarecrow watches over the cornfield at night and in the morning. During the day, it sways in the wind like a dancer on a stake, feeling the music of the motion. Once, it observed a black snake flowing down a hole with more surprise than its painted-on eyes. The scarecrow finds moments of life and observation despite being made of sticks.
Visualizing using poems[1]
- 1. SCARECROW ~ Alice Schertle ~ Last night, alone, he saw the rising moon set silver fires among his stalks of corn and watched the tassels burn like candlewicks. At dawn he saw the noisy crows return. They know him for a friend, this man of sticks in boots that dangle just above the dirt, the handle of a rake shoved through his shirt. On summer days when grass around him sways like wave that fat follows wave upon the ocean, I’ve seen him shake, a dancer on a stake, as if he feels a music in the motion. And once I saw his round astonished eyes observe with more than painted-on surprise a black snake flow like water down a hole, and heard him sigh upon his wooden pole. A Lucky Thing Poems by Alice Schertle
- 2. In the Almost-Light ~ Joyce Sidman ~ In the dark, in the night, in the almost-light, in the leaf-crisp air just before sunlight, sprouts a secret, silent, sparkling sight; berries grown on the vines of night. On the grass, on the buds, on the bark of trees, on the small clear wings of the bumblebees, on the spiderwebs (and the spiders’ knees), come the jewels of the dawn in the cool night’s breeze. And the sun when it comes through the purple haze touches each clear gem with its sidelong gaze, fingers each clear drop with its lazy rays, gather each one back for the summer’s days. Butterfly Eyes and Other Secrets Poems by Joyce Sidman
- 3. STORY ~ Eloise Greenfield ~ I step into the story. I leave my world behind. I let the walls of story Be the walls of my mind. New faces and new voices. I listen and I see, and people I have never met mean everything to me. I worry when they worry, I quake when danger’s near, I hold my breath and hope that all their troubles disappear. I don’t know what will happen, I never know what I’ll find, when I step into a story and leave my world behind. In the Land of Words