The bright orange pumpkin

a poem by Emma Joy, age nine

On a bright summer's day,

I opened my cupboard

Just to find a bright orange pumpkin,

Round and fat and broad.

I asked, "Ms. Pumpkin,

What might you be doing here?"

She said, with a voice like honey,

"I have come to say that autumn is near."

I looked outside, and before my eyes,

The trees, oh my! The trees!

What a beautiful sight that met my eyes!

'Twas red and orange and gold.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "'Tis the perfect time for pies!

I shall make pumpkin, apple, and cherry pies.

But I won't use you, Ms. Pumpkin,

For I think you are quite nice.

Most pumpkins that I've met before

Are rude and cold as ice."

And from that day

And up till now,

Ms. Pumpkin is my friend.

I think that you

Should meet her,

When you see me again.