Emma The Pumpkin - Adult Emma Watson Poem
The pumpkin's name was Emma Watson
The pulp inside her grow
What all inside was mash and tide
of every gin they know
For what's a gin but berried water
a grain would glass-eyed glow
But Emma Watson fit and pride
what even caps turn flow
When questioned eyes are thoughts of joy
and nose no runny quilt
What all patched hands you're stitching up
what forms are meant to guilt
When even odds are flowing out
and in a bitter flask
What lips of seal to all our bottles
are toasted liquour task
To seams of Counts as oversights
are Dracula's at suck
What all the teeth and oily gums
are saturates for luck
To see you drink as any sip
you say a pumpkin's right
Where up your grum's a carried might
your pumpkin's lit tonight
Quatrain Poem by Trevor McLeod
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