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!’



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