There stood a scarecrow on a farm
His wicked grin, it promised harm.
As he rested, his mind did wander,
through endless verdant fields of yonder
But to his perch it did return
And once again he stood alone.
How he wished a crow would come
To break this monotony.
If he could he’d fall to a knee
To implore for wanted company
But all he could was stand and sway
So stay and sway he did.
Against all odds a shadow came
The beat of its wings so majestic.
Its exultant cries untamed and so very unexpected.
The rhythm of wings beating, its herald
The scarecrow could scarcely believe it
A visitor! In his field of emerald.
His hope for naught
The scarecrow’s dreams are dashed
His visitor had felt unwelcome.
The scarecrow's stare, his straw hair, his tattered clothes that bound him
Their job was done, his guest refused, it left him.
The scarecrow stood on his pole feeling quite dismayed
His head hung low, his sadness he betrayed
His arms unmoving, his eyes downcast
As he stayed and swayed his pain eventually passed.
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