Pumpkin poem ... for autumn joy

... by Cecil Frances Alexander

One day I found two pumpkin seeds.

I planted one and pulled the weeds.

It sprouted roots and a big long vine.

The pumpkin grew; I called it mine.

The pumpkin was quite round and fat.

(I really am quite proud of that.)

But there is something I'll admit,

that has me worried just a bit.

I ate the other seed, you see.

Now, will it grow inside of me?

(I'm so relieved since I have found,

that pumpkins only grow in the ground!)

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