I Am The Scarecrow

I am the scarecrow.

Hanging from this wooden frame,

a skeleton of twisted wood

that creaks and groans in protest

at the ravages of age.

The ice cold rain

trickles through my straw flesh

bringing chills to every movement

and dull aches to the knotted joints.

I am the scarecrow.

My sack-cloth head

full of sawdust ideas

that spill fr...

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Hello friends

 It's been a long time coming but Pt:3 of The Communications Trilogy is finally upon us. This time concentrating on the dreaded audio device of menace, the telephone.

 I've been fairly productive recently so I will be uploading a couple more Poems in quick succession, please take the time to have a look and as always feedback is welcomed.

Telephone

Lost...

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