I passed a farmer's field today,
And bravely standing there
Was a jolly scarecrow
'Neath summer sky so fair.
He wore an old and bettered hat,
His clothes were ripped and torn;
An though he seemed to sag a bit,
He didn't look forlorn.
His painted face wore a grin,
He waved his gloves at me;
Through straw protruded here and there,
He was happy as could be.
For he was busy guarding land
To keep the crows away,
And all the crops grew nicely
As he watched both night and day.
I think he felt a special pride
Beneath the summer sky.
I smiled and felt happier
As I waved a fond goodbye.
~ LaVerne P. Larson
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