A pumpkin poem
The date was set down…and the guiding terms directed no fooling around.
The attendee list was written down … so no one could fool around!
The nights were getting longer … as the days were getter shorter.
The air began to bite you … and a chill entered you, too.
The sun was seen less … while the dark created a mental mess!
Field crops were ready … like an aging bottle of aqua vitae.
And, people’s clothing went from light and airy … to heavy and hairy.
In the pumpkin patch…the orange spheres met their match.
Apples were taken from the tree with a pull … waiting for the mull!
Corn shocks were built … and left standing without a lilt.
And, as the colors of orange, red and yellow greeted our eyes,
Ah, we remembered: “Gosh, how time flies!”
Urgently, the winds of Fall … urged us onward to carve our ball.
Our eyes meandered across the pumpkin patch…where each of us selected our match.
Knowing how time flies … we all began carving with our knives!
A variety of pumpkin faces soon appeared … as we all stood around and cheered!
Later, over a glass of Sandeman Port … we realized our days together were way too short.
So, here’s to many more Halloween pumpkins … even if we all act like bumpkins!
As always, eat and drink in moderation but laugh with reckless abandon!’