Best Pumpkin Poems
Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.
The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.
Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!
I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!
“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”
Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.
They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.
The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”
Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.
We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."
Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”
He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!
“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”
Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.
For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!
10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~
(Alternative Ending for Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater)
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater.
Do you think he kept his wife so well
by putting her inside a pumpkin shell?
Inside that shell she had no room
to move around. A rotten groom
was Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater.
In the end, his wife could not be found
by friends or family. He’d thrown away the key,
and his wife was not allowed
to leave that stinking pumpkin shell.
Rumor is from loneliness she died.
Peter cruelly put all empathy aside.
Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.
The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.
Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!
I think it’s time for you to finally go face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!
“Oh my,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”
Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.
They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.
The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”
Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.
We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat.
Peter trembled and grew chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”
He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!
“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you both help me!”
Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.
For he ran across a guy named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!
Written by Andrea Dietrich and Jan Allison, for the
Halloween Co-Writes Poetry Contest of Diane Locksley
Lantern of the Shadowed Glade
In shadowed glades where spirits dwell,
Beneath the boughs of an ancient spell.
A pumpkin awaits, its fate foretold,
By tomes of old and tales untold.
Carved with care by children’s hands,
A toothy grin upon its face expands.
Yet, within those haunting, hollowed eyes,
Lies a deeper truth in dark disguise.
On Halloween, beneath pewter beams,
Wailing winds weave ominous screams,
The Jack-o’-lantern’s gaze ignites,
On ghoulish forms lurking in the night.
He sees the village, veiled in fear,
In costumes worn, yet souls austere,
For lurking ’neath the festive guise,
A darkness deep, where evil lies.
Children laugh with voices bright,
While shadows waltz in ghostly light,
Sinister secrets, whispers heard,
Carried on the wings of a devil bird.
But deeper still, the pumpkin knows,
The ancient lore, the forest’s throes,
For spirits rise on this cursed night,
To dance beneath the pale moonlight.
In solemn vigil, silent, and grim,
The gourd watches, a veil so thin,
‘Twixt shadowed realms of dark and light,
A sentinel of the Styx, in eternal night.
When dawn breaks o’er the ghastly glade,
The pumpkin’s light begins to fade,
In its heart, an ember of infernal lore,
A demonic lantern, cursed forevermore.
Mum’s
Baking
Pumpkin pie.
Light crisp pastry
Silky smooth topping
Adorned with pastry leaves
Topped with swirls of white whipped cream.
I start drooling; it’s so tempting
Our spoons are poised ready to tuck in
Oh how I adore autumn harvest time!
For love of October Contest
Sponsor – Andrea Dietrich
09~23~15
PUMPKIN MAN
Pumpkin Man
Is running wild
I hear he ate a neighbor’s child
With hollow eyes
And jagged teeth
Escaping the oven what he seeks
Meant for pie by wify wife
When she lifted his lid
He came to life
His thousand seeds lay in a bowl
Thus emptied out
He has no soul
Listen kids – that solemn drumming
Better split
Pumpkin Man is coming
Dave Austin
October, when the leaves intensify -
colored explosions: orange, yellow, red,
breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
There's one last month of days with lightened sky
before our Daylight Saving goes to bed;
October, when the leaves intensify.
A campsite will my kinfolk occupy,
by hot bonfire we'll sing and break the bread,
breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
So many sports events to satisfy
this fan: World Series appetites are fed,
October, when the leaves intensify.
The crisp night air, hot chocolate, pumpkin pie,
warm sweaters, gloves, and scarves become widespread,
Breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
Sweet treats for trick-or-treaters who stop by,
the pirates, princesses, and walking dead.
October, when the leaves intensify;
Breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.
Written 12 July 2020
My feet step in time to the great Pumpkin Stroll
where gourds are like chords of a song
I tap dance around golden orbs of delight
As Fall once again comes along
So happy, the sounds of the rustling leaves
of ochre and crimson and green
My mind is a whirl, Jack-o-lanterns to make
The scariest you’ve ever seen
The cider has left me abuzz with intent
the patches, a bounteous crop
A tipsy reminder to walk with great care
when blades are then drawn set to chop
Selecting perfection of orange leafy squash
I’m pleased at achieving my goal
Still stepping in time to Fall’s musical whim
I’ve loved doing my Pumpkin Stroll
So stop by and wonder when pies may be set
on window sill ready to cool
But don’t lay a finger until time is right
lest you reconcile with a ghoul!
Legend has it
She cast her spell to gain his love
With a lock of his hair and feather of a dove
He murdered her on all hallows night
Then planted a pumpkin on her grave site
White as her hair the pumpkin did grow
Legend says it is so
Wow 50 words burns up quick
that was harder than i thought
it would be.
colors of pumpkin,
vermillion and deep gold---
veiled mysteries air
branches intertwine
in a sea of canopies---
harvest moon rises
gilded by the dawn
and swayed by a seasoned wind---
shades of art abound
“The finest poetry
is the most feigning.”
—William Shakespeare
Smelling scent soothe my soul
Sits in sleek oven
Simmering Jack-O-Lantern
Smile so nicely
Saliva pours for
Sweet pumpkin
Pie!
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
© Joseph, November 2, 2008
© All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
Semi finalist contestant
292 out of 887 submissions
June 1, 2009 International Contest
~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
Shapely to coarse green stem,
sitting alone; wanting to grin.
Patiently waiting for the take,
wanting Halloween to begin.
A few more weeks left to grow,
inviting; nestled in straw.
Children soon make their choice,
with little eyes in awe.
Fields abundant in orange hue,
serenading a season of rest.
Large or small or fat or thin,
any grab will be the best.
Cold winds blow just enough
to take its nipping bite.
Scarves and hoods, snuggly warm,
fending autumn with wraps pulled tight.
Little arms try to carry
the most perfect pumpkin around.
The patch now shrinks very thin,
remnants of a once lush ground.
Copyright © 2009 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Second Place Winner ~ "Happy Halloween" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kelly Deschler
Nov. 04, 2015
Summer yawns at rest,
Autumn kaleidoscopes in
Ominous beauty.
You start with a small pumpkin.
Clean it, cut in cubes,
Fry with bacon and onions
A little butter.
Add salt and pepper
Till tender
Sigh!
Written 10.26.2017
Andrea Dietrich’s Contest:
Make Me Drool with Epulaeryu
7th
Folks held a contest to carve a pumpkin
The winner was this one of Donald Trumpkin
He claims he will make Halloween great again
When he makes a mess you know who to blame!
MAY GOD BLESS AMERICA – SHE NEEDS ALL THE HELP SHE CAN GET THIS ELECTION TIME.
Many thanks again to Mama Bear for sending me this funny picture which inspired the poem.
10~22~16