Writer Blog


Poor little orphan boy
pumpkin for a head
Had not come to realize
that he was truly dead.

He ran up to the local kids
to join them in their deeds
They carved into his scalp, instead
and pulled out all his seeds.

There sat little pumpkin boy
skull all full of goop
and plotted his revenge, in full
upon the chicken coop.

He found himself a pony
A little shetland breed.
Its eyes, a wee bit crooked-cross
He’d found his fearsome steed.

Upon its back he whooped and lashed
at cornstalks that grew tall
training for the payback due
to all the boys this fall.

As the days flew past him
the little boy improved
his hacking turned to slashing
to face the ones so rude.

He crept his pony forward
behind unwary children
and one by one he swapped their heads
with gourd, and spud, and melon.


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