Looking for the perfect fit,
in a patch full of pumpkins,
waiting to be picked.

Hundreds spread from acre to acre,
also looking for the perfect taker.

No man wants a pumpkin too small to carve,
but no pumpkin wants a man too large,
for his carving hands may push to hard.

Walking through the cold frosted field,
looking and feeling for the perfect peel,
in a field of big plump pumpkins.

Spiky green umbilical cords still latched to their babies,
the dirt hugs each child like it’s their last day,
soon enough each baby will travel away.

People of all size’s and age’s come to browse,
looking frantically around,
for a pumpkin thats the perfect fit.