The Cornfield in the Moonlight
by Blanche Manos
The cornfield in the moonlight, when the shadows dance and sway
Is not the same at midnight as it is throughout the day.
The field is hushed at midnight; the world has gone to sleep,
But the cornstalks nod and rustle at the mysteries they keep.
Who moves throughout the cornfield? Who creeps and scuttles there?
What is that eerie whispering? Is that the wind I hear?
The cornstalks keep their secrets; the shadows never tell,
But the moon, so brightly shining, knows all those secrets well.
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