Pumpkin Head Fred
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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