When I was young I knew a man made of straw, but never once br did he enter my street door. br As much as I wanted him too mother would say 'NO' because he was br only a stuffed Scarecrow br He lived in a field just down the lane and the way he was treated was br such a shame. br He stood in that field through rain and shine with no way of knowing br the day or the time. br When the sun came out there was a smile on his face but when it rained br he looked a total disgrace. br His head would bow and his hat would fall, it never fitted him anyhow br it was much to small. br Over the field I would run and place it back on his head, then when I br got home Mother always saw red. br My Muddy boots she would make me clean because she knew br exactly where I had been. br For years that Scarecrow stood in that field watching and waiting br for the harvest to yield. br As I grew older I began to understand that this poor old Scarecrow br was doing something grand. br He kept the crows from stealing the seeds that grew into the harvest br for the farmers needs.