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!)