The Lonely Scarecrow

My poor old bones-I've only got two-
A broomshank and a broken stave.
my ragged gloves are a disgrace.
my one peg-foot is in the grave.
I wear the labourer's old clothes;
coat,shirt and trousers all undone.
I bear my cross upon a hill
in rain and shine, in snow and sun.
I cannot help the way i look.
my funny hat is full of hay.
-O, wild birds, come and nest in me!
why do you always fly away?

_James Kirkup_