PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A scarecrow full of hay

stood in a field of mice.

He glanced up at the sun

and felt the breeze, so nice.



He thought about the farmer,

why he hated crows.

They were all black and beady,

and greedy he supposed.



So the scarecrow stood his ground,

as the crows all flew above.

He put on his fierce face

the one that had no love.



So the crows they did not land,

they flew off to the side

and the scarecrow felt so sad

but his conscience was his guide.



He really did like birds

so it was such a shame,

that this particular job

was summed up by his name.