THE LAMENT OF A SCARECROW

A frisky squirrel slithered up   his terracotta  head
Merrily flirting  with his turban  dark  red  
A naughty egret chased a buffalo and pecked 
Two  birds who joyously chirped  and necked .

Under the watchful eye of the laboring mother
And the antics of his bony  half clad brother
In a patchwork hammock calmly slept a child
Unaware of the   feisty birds which around it filed. 

The scarecrow  watched the  egret with his only  eye
As lightning staggered   across the dark sky 
With a menacing cackle, and a huge sigh.
He shuddered,was another catastrophe nigh?

Was he  again falling off the edge of his  world?
With an incipient sob, his  painted lips  curled.
Life was putrid and could be ah, so  mean
It was not with envy his shirt was a pale green.


He hid the turbulence  in his  hayry chest
When a peacock vain  swayed its crest
Fluffing  its flamboyant feathers, strutting around
Squawking  merrily on the rain drenched ground.


The red turban which  was brand new
Now on his   wobbly head hung  askew.
From above  there was a thunderous cough 
The turban  shook and  almost fell off.

His skull rumbled and   felt like clay
This way and that it started to sway.
The rain whipped and lashed and battered
 His clothes which were already tattered .

His skull shook like a balloon on a thin stick
From his neck  he could not ease that  crick.
The rain fell in torrents and lightning  shimmered
The sun was jailed , and  no hope glimmered .

For days on end, he had  stood, arms wide
Taking rain , thunder and sleet in his stride.
Stoically he had endured calamities  all
The hail , the sun, the storm and fall.


Half an eye he  cast on himself  shabbily attired
Surrounded by bramble and  burr , sometimes tired 
"One eye I  had lost in the last storm
Ah I  feel so weak ,pathetic my  form.

The attire oft proclaims the man
Is this what says   the wise human ?
But I am  not even a mannequin
My smile is now  a  lopsided grin.

Alas,  I am  just a parody, a spoof. 
Life indeed is vile and  mean ,oof!
But have I not been a  diligent doer
What if I look  dishevelled  and  poor?

In the middle of the field I  stand  tethered
Many a storm valiantly  have I  weathered .
Scaring the predating birds with my   looks
Who plunder stalks and then hide in  nooks.

Often I want to dance and prance around
And like the peacock  go round and round
"A soul of lead so stakes me to the ground
 I cannot move" ,  alas am woefully bound.

Romeo's ghost infiltrated this body mine
And for love I horribly pine, oh how I pine 
Ever since I wore a writer's discarded  hat
 Silly me, I have imagined  this and that."

As though by some extra sensory perception
The cicadas heard the scarecrow's lamentation.
At  night these Samaritans good , happily shrilled
And the scarecrow with their choir  was  thrilled.

Next morning out on bail was the  radiant sun 
No longer in jail, in a burst of rambunctious fun
In his direction  it sent one golden kiss
Ah bliss, one golden kiss,  at last was his.


No longer did the sad scarecrow  wallow in self pity
His resuscitated heart now started singing  a ditty.
 No longer did he feel  poverty stricken  or cold
Sheathed in sheer  gold, he felt confident and  bold.

He felt a tingling in his hand me down sole
Ah, into a merry  dance now broke   his own soul .