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The Scarecrow
 
The Scarecrow

He stands by the cornfield
Standing there straight and high
Swinging with each gusts of wind
Turning the other cheek in sigh

He begins to cry a little bit
As the rain starts pouring down
He just stand there strong
As the water runs to the ground

He tries to scare the birds
To keep them from the corn
He don't have a gun to shoot
And he's not able to blow a horn

He stands there with his straw hat
And all his rags that he wears
But he won't even say 'boo'
So he's not much of a scare

Yes he's just a scarecrow
With his clothes full of straw
Standing there by the corn patch
Watching birds as they come to call

He don't say anything you see
For the poor guy can't talk
But he stands there for hours
Listening to the crows squawk

After the corn is all gone
the farmer will put him away
Until the the birds and mice
Will be packing his straws away

Written 9/14/2017 by Norman Hale Jr.
2017 norman (All rights reserved)

By norman

© 2017 norman (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The WORD PAINTING Challenge with MissSharon (Sharon) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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