Late in the summertime, after July
When the wind lifts the thistledown
up to the sky 
Pushing it gently to go where it will
Over the fields, the woods and the hill
Fairy-like, drifting to village and town
Floating in gardens or settling down
Onto the edges of bridges and hedges
Dancing through doorways 
Or landing on ledges
Meeting the bee by the vegetable bed
Teasing the cat, half-asleep by the shed
Lingering low over meadows unknown
After the oats and the barley are mown

When the nettles are old
And the apples are gold
And the corn is cut down
And the roses are blown
With mist in the morning
As grey as a stone
The scarecrow's left standing
in stubble alone
With his battered old hat 
And a tattered old coat
A pole for his back and a scarf
at his throat
Watching a rabbit being chased
by a stoat,.
It's that time of year 
-every year, comes a mouse
Saying: " Please Mr. Scarecrow 
 -I've just lost my house.
The house which I lived in all summer and spring
Was cut down and flattened
I've lost everything.
Luckily most of my children had grown
They all ran away when the field was mown

But I need a home, now the autumn is due 
And thought, Mr Scarecrow...
I might live with you."

The scarecrow, a kindly and lonely old soul
Known to the robin, the mouse 
and the mole
Looked at the sky and the clouds skating by
Turned in the wind before giving a sigh:
"Yes, I suppose so -I don't see why not
The autumn is coming. I don't have a lot
You'll have to provide all your own winter stores.
But you'll have my company
And I'll have yours 
As for the place that you choose for your bed
Pockets are better than say, on my head
The hat lets the rain in
The birds steal the straw. 
The robin leaves mess on my shoulders 
and more.
So sleep in the pocket just next to my chest
It's warm and it's dry and I'm sure 
that's the best.
-In winter the wind shrieks a song in the trees
With showers of hailstones like icy white peas
And then comes the rain and the frost and the cold
Though sometimes, the sunset is purple and gold
And that, is worth seeing in the afternoon light
Before the short daytime becomes the long night  
But you will be warm Mrs Mouse, near my chest
Yes, live in my pocket and I'll do the rest."
The mouse said: " I thank you."
The scarecrow: " I'm sure
You're welcome to all that I have and then more."
She crawled in his pocket, the home that she'd found
And hardly went out till the spring came around.

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