The Scarecrowem by Simbo Rumblebelly So there he stands All on his own A barley field He calls his home On mud and stones His legs do rest He looks lonely And not well-dressed A threadbare coat He wears with pride Though bits of straw Poke out the sides And badly tied A scarf of red An old top hat On top his head In rain and wind He's always there A thankless task For no-one cares All day he stares At passing crows And rats that gnaw At his straw toes He guards barley And crops of rye From greedy crows Out of the sky As they flock by To call him names He scares them off No times for games He'd really like Some company A friendly face Around for tea He never sees A friend to play They just see him And run away One day he wakes And hears a sound Something rooted In closeby ground He looks around And with a gasp He eyes set on A scarecrow lass! A fine new coat She wears with pride And fresh cut straw Is stuffed inside And neatly tied A scarf of red A new top hat On top her head So there he stands No more alone A scarecrows lass To call his own And in their home They gently sway Together 'till The End of Days Some information about the artist: Master Simbo is a famous poet around the Shire. When not preoccupied with collecting and eating pies, Master Simbo works on expanding his collection of self-written poems. He is a regular visitor of the Green Dragon, where on fridaynights he may be found willing to recite some of his work. Master Simbo is also a gifted musician and actor. |
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