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.