Kids 'n Pumpkins

I wrote this kids poem many years ago. I've always loved pumpkins, those big fat orange gourds that have come to symbolize Halloween. I prefer them to so much of what we see these days for the observation of All Hallow's Eve, the day before All Saints Day. I don't need ghastly reminders of death, severed body parts, bloody knives. Yick. No, give me a jolly pumpkin like I describe in this article in Prairie Times and a cute poem. Much better.

PUMPKIN HOLLOW

By Susan Sundwall

Down in the hollow

Just over the hill

All of the pumpkins

Lay quiet and still

From planting to picking

Is quite a long time

They patienly wait

Growing fat on the vine

One day in the autumn

The children will come

Laughing and running

To choose for their own

Patting and pinching

They dash to and fro

Searching and seeking

Row after row

Oh, this one is perfect

So plump and so round

Orange turned up belly

There on the ground

The waiting now over

The pumpkins go home

Held in the arms

Of each little gnome

A lantern to cut out

A Jack or a Jill

From down in the hollow

Just over the hill  

Image: Arvind Balaraman                                                                  Free Digital Photos