Something Not Right
To Carol’s pumpkin patch I did go
With my little red wagon behind in tow
A fifty pound one I would use for show
Through teeth and eyes an eerie light would glow
To my surprise as I did a double take
First impressions were thoughts that they were fake
“White pumpkins!” I felt to see if I were awake
“White pumpkins!” Oh give me a break
Acidity in her soil Carol said of her spoil
Of such the flush of pumpkins were soiled
Funny feeling I had of maybe getting oiled
Pumpkins bleached white as though they had been boiled
Spoiled, soiled and oiled and maybe even broiled
By a promise, of free pumpkin, I am so embroiled
A sucker for free stuff, so rub me also with palm oil
It is Halloween, so I must assume this spoil
A golden pumpkin delight is white of spite
In acidity soil, echoes my usual plight,
something doesn’t seem well for day is not night
Though with my pumpkin white, I split the site
In honor of Carol Brown
And Contest
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment