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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required There once was a man with a head Like a pumpkin it was, and called Fred How they laughed in the Spring At the pumpkin head thing Oh the sting of rejection, he said In summer the sun burned a hole Through his head like a rat or a mole And no-one ate soup Made of pumpkin and gloop So he spent all his days on the dole By winter he'd started to rot Far too rank to be put in the pot Once his head had caved in He'd be put in the bin That was whether he liked it or not But in autumn, around Hallowe'en All the girls became suddenly keen And would fight for the right To have Fred for the night And display him where he could be seen He's so big, and he's so very round! They said as they bought him and wound Their arms round his girth (Both for weighing his worth And for keeping him way off the ground) His head swelled with masculine pride And become almost seven foot wide Which was almost too large To transport in a barge Or to fit in a car for a ride The knife it did tickle a bit When it went in to slice the first slit And the spoon bit was tense For his brains were quite dense And his lid was quite tricky to fit But oh, the magnificent sight With the candle inside and the light! It's the twinkle they said In his eyes! Oh how Fred Did enjoy a good Hallowe'en night! Pumpkin Fred wasn’t pretty for sure But on one night a year he would score The odd treat or trick That would tickle his wick As he flickered and winked by the door © Gail Foster 26th October 2023
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