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Rags, bags, sacks and twigs

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Rags, bags, sacks and twigs

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Even before that Covid situation, it was a lonely job I’d always done.
I stand alone during my day, but no visitors, not even one.
I’m in this field to scare birds away, but it’s you people I love to see.
You never think I notice you as you walk or drive past me.
You think I wave my arms with the wind, this isn’t strictly true.
You’ll see me wave on windless days, I’m waving just at you.
I know I’m not famous, I’d like to have a name, but no one ever knows.
I missed the joy of seeing all of you, during those Covid no shows.
Born from branches, twigs, hay and grass, nature’s gifted me a brain.
It’s sad the inner being you’ll never realise, but I won’t complain.
They never even finished me, an empty space left within my chest.
God sensed my nature’s brain and with a gifted heart was blessed.
They had to dress me scary, but this makes me feel so really sad.
Just pop across the field and say hello to me I ain’t that bad a lad.
They dressed me like a bag full of sacks, my hat is stuffed with grain.
But I’m so lonely forgotten in my field, where I always will remain.
No visitors, only just the birds to scare away, that is my only job.
Even though they dressed me to look like this I’m really not a slob.
I’ve worked so far all this time, for mankind, without gift of any gain.
Someday I will crumble into dust because of sun, wind and rain.
They fixed me in this spot for good with never the chance to roam.
Weather will take its final toll on me I’m just a soul without a home.
With those restrictions now long lifted and your normality to regain.
Don’t forget to all wave to me when you’re passing by me once again.
My nature’s brain in unison and God’s gifted beat to a lonely heart.
That’s how I know you can empathise with me, until I at last depart.

With regards
Mick Scarles (SW19 expat)

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