I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o'-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight
PoetryHi, I want to present you my new idea. This book will be a collection of poems that I like, but which especially struck me inwardly, even deeply. It doesn't have a central theme, so it will talk about everything, everything. It's called "Midnight". ...
