There you are, standing at your post this frosty autumn morn...
Your straw hat's just a bit askew, and your old shirt, slightly worn
Your gold straw-stuffing's peeking from your pant-legs and your sleeves.
Your pitchfork's tilted, leaning, standing in the autumn leaves.
Why, I recall when you were born...you stood there, fresh and new
Your straw hat wasn't faded, and your jeans...bright denim-blue
And all around, beneath your feet were vines and leaves galore
The summer sun, the sudden rains, have changed you...that's for sure...
But, Mr. Scarecrow, you're still part of this old farm, today
I've come to take you from your post..to carry you away...
You've done your job, you did it well, and now you'll have your rest
...upon thee porch, for harvest-time, you've done your very best...
We've got the cornstalks, tan and tall,...the pumpkins, they abound
Now you will be the focus in your autumn hand-me-downs
Come on along, we'll paint a smile...then take a stitch or two
Come Autumn winds, you'll find your place, and be as good as new
If you are the copyright holder of this poem and it was submitted by one of our users without your consent, please contact us at http://support.scrapbook.com and we will be happy to remove it.