The Corn Maze

Faces gather round rows of corn,
A maze, a field, of work adorned –

Love beams from twinkling eyes,
Interrupted by stalks and ears,
Causing the view to blur, unclear.

Around and around the corn she goes,
Looking for faces that she does know,
But when directions are hard to steer,
Dumbfounded expressions appear.

Round the corn and past the stalks,
She takes a moment of silent pause,
And wonders, “Which is the way to peace and calm?”