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)
The Scarecrow
The Scarecrow
TO SOME WE SEEM LIKE A GENIOUS
TO SOME WE SEEM LIKE A FOOL
BUT OUR WORDS OF POETRY
IS JUST OUR EXPESSION TOOL
TO SOME WE SEEM LIKE A FOOL
BUT OUR WORDS OF POETRY
IS JUST OUR EXPESSION TOOL