66 Pumpkin Poems for a Happy Creepy October

As the leaves turn gold and the air grows crisp, October is the perfect time to celebrate the wonder of pumpkins through poetry.

From their iconic shape to their delicious flavor, pumpkins offer a rich tapestry of inspiration for poets of all ages.

Whether you’re looking to capture the spooky spirit of Halloween or the cozy warmth of fall, pumpkin poems offer a creative way to express yourself and connect with others.

So curl up with a mug of hot cider, carve a jack-o-lantern, and let these poems on pumpkin transport you to a world of magic and wonder.

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Funny Pumpkin Poems

Lighten the mood with playful, interesting poems about pumpkin that celebrate the quirky and charming aspects of these beloved gourds.

1. The Sad Little Pumpkin

       by Robin L. Gass

The Sad Little Pumpkin
Little pumpkin very sad
for in white he’d been clad
To be a lantern was his dream
but woeful he was white as cream
So I said, to his delight,
that I liked his coat of white
Now, because I liked him most,
my Jack O’ Lantern is a ghost

2. Trumpkin Pumpkin

       by Jan Allison

Folks held a contest to carve a pumpkin
The winner was this one of Donald Trumpkin

He claims he will make Halloween great again
When he makes a mess you know who to blame!

3. The Pumpkin Show

       by Betty Harp Butler

Down in the meadow
where the pumpkins grow,
God is putting on an extravagant show.

Bright orange pumpkins
lying all around…
Little pumpkins, middle-sized pumpkins,
and giant pumpkins can all be found.

Hundreds of pumpkins
waiting for the day,
when they’ll be loaded
on a truck filled with hay.

To market, to market,
and then to the store,
Soon they’ll find a home
by someone’s back door.

Then Grandma will cook the pumpkin
and turn it into pies,
And that’s why God
rains pumpkins down from the skies.

4. The White Pumpkin

       by Virginia Mitchell

Thank you, Ma’am, for the pumpkin.
I am not distressed in the least.
Though it’s not of my preference,
It’ll suffice for a Halloween feast.

Mother Nature could have mixed up her seeds.
That could explain why the color is bland.
One might think Jack Frost didn’t finish his work,
Or, Autumn is making a political stand.

I am so glad you came with this pumpkin.
Come on in Ma’am, and stay for awhile.
No, I don’t mind it isn’t bright orange,
Though it isn’t the most popular style.

Please, have a seat as good company should,
And quit the uncertainties filling your mind.
Don’t doubt my plan for sweet pumpkin pie,
As giving me this ugly, white pumpkin was kind.

5. Smashing Pumpkin

       by Richard Breese

once a young pumpkin named phil
yearned for a bigger life thrill
though lacking in feet
he’d roll down a street
into the nearest car grille.

6. Pumpkin Cake

       by Sara Kendrick

There once was a girl from Arizona
Who could only fit in a kimona
She vowed to lose some weight
But loved all kinds of cake
Even drawn by pumpkin cake’s aroma  

She vowed that she would be stronger
Would wear kimonos no longer
With cotton up her nose
From the table arose
Now in leggins she does saunter

7. Pumpkin Pie

       by Joseph Sergi

Just last night it was a good idea to eat that pumpkin pie,
at first it was just a little piece that caught my eye.
But in a little while all the pie was gone,
I thought to myself ” Wow that did not take too long!”
Now this morning I have awoke with remorse,
for my pants will not fasten on their course.

8. Pumpkin Patch Escapade

       by Robert A. Dufresne

Paul was poking around in the pumpkin patch
Looking for a pumpkin to snatch.
The eerie sound of a fiddle,
Made him piddle just a little,
And his breath so hard to catch!

He ran as fast as he could
And hid himself in the wood,
When he turned to see who followed,
His tongue he almost swallowed,
Then he wet himself real good!

He could have been caught, I bet,
And that’s what you’d usually get,
But certain physical laws,
Saved him here..because…
One is quite slippery when wet!

9. Pumpkin Stickin’

       by Linda Alice Fowler

There once was a pretty pumpkin
Grown purposely for consumption.
Snatched from its cozy home
It was brutally cloned
And now sits withered and shrunken.

Famous Pumpkin Poems

Many famous poets have written about pumpkins, leaving a rich legacy of iconic and famous poems about pumpkin that continue to inspire and enchant.

1. The Hustling Pumpkin Vine

       by Ed. Blair

Say boy, don’t go a mopin’ ’round ‘n’ talkin’ in a whine,
But go out in the field and view the hustling pumpkin vine.
It has the kind o’ stuff in it that’s needed, boy, in you,
A kind o’ get there quality thet most folks say will do.
The weeds may grow around it but the pumpkin vine don’t stop,
It shows it’s there fer business an’ it climbs right out on top.
An’ if it strikes a big stone fence or ditch that may be wide,
It jes’ lines out ‘n strings the pumpkins on the other side.
So boy, don’t let the weeds or ditches drive you from your way,
But go ahead and get on top—do something every day.
An’ if things look discouraging, don’t ever mope or whine,
But go and learn a lesson from the hustling pumpkin vine.

2. The Pumpkins in the Corn

       by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts

Amber and blue, the smoke behind the hill,
Where in the glow fades out the morning star,
Curtains the autumn cornfield, sloped afar,
And strikes an acrid savour on the chill.
The hilltop fence shines saffron o’er the still
Unbending ranks of bunched and bleaching corn,
And every pallid stalk is crisp with morn,
Crisp with the silver autumn morns distil.
Purple the narrowing alleys stretched between
The spectral shocks, a purple harsh and cold,
But spotted, where the gadding pumpkins run,
With bursts of blaze that startle the serene
Like sudden voices,—globes of orange bold,
Elate to mimic the unrisen sun.

3. The Elementary Scene

       by Randall Jarrell

Looking back in my mind I can see
The white sun like a tin plate
Over the wooden turning of the weeds;
The street jerking –a wet swing–
To end by the wall the children sang.

The thin grass by the girls’ door,
Trodden on, straggling, yellow and rotten,
And the gaunt field with its one tied cow–
The dead land waking sadly to my life–
Stir, and curl deeper in the eyes of time.

The rotting pumpkin under the stairs
Bundled with switches and the cold ashes
Still holds for me, in its unwavering eyes,
The stinking shapes of cranes and witches,
Their path slanting down the pumpkin’s sky.

Its stars beckon through the frost like cottages
(Homes of the Bear, the Hunter–of that absent star,
The dark where the flushed child struggles into sleep)
Till, leaning a lifetime to the comforter,
I float above the small limbs like their dream:

I, I, the future that mends everything.

4. Pumpkin Is Queen

       by Mrs. May C. Hanks

The bards may sing of the great Corn King,
Who marshals in every valley,
His hosts we see, like the sands of the sea,
From hill-top and plain they rally.
But our muse will rhyme for the Pumpkin Vine,
As long as the pen is able,
For plainly ’tis seen the Pumpkin is Queen
Of the ranch and the dinner table.
Tradition tells when they rang the bells
Of joy at the Nation’s freedom,
They paid devoir to the Queen of the hour,
The beautiful golden pumpkin.
It spreads its broad leaves like the great palm trees,
That wave on the isles of the ocean,
Their ciliate sheen and beautiful green,
Are the joy the and pride of a nation.
O, a thing sublime is the Pumpkin vine!
When it bringeth its bloom in the summer,
It proudly lifts up its broad lily cup,
A chalice of regal splendor.
‘Tis seen in its prime in the harvest time,
On the south hill-side in autumn,
A sphere of bright gold, its riches untold,
For the queen of the ranch is the Pumpkin.
Thanksgiving day would be a side-play
Minus the golden Pumpkin;
No feast is complete, if they have not to eat,
A circle of yellow Pumpkin.
Oh! the Pumpkin pie will ever out-vie,
Johnny-cake, pone, or corn dodger,
You don’t need to chew, it melts like the dew,
When the sun shines bright on the clover.

5. Tawny

       by Carl Sandburg

These are the tawny days: your face comes back.
The grapes take on purple: the sunsets redden early on the trellis.
The bashful mornings hurl gray mist on the stripes of sunrise.
Creep, silver on the field, the frost is welcome.
Run on, yellow balls on the hills, and you tawny pumpkin flowers,
chasing your lines of orange.
Tawny days: and your face again.

6. Pumpkin’s Place

       by Martin Shaw

However many pumpkins sit
Along the pumpkin vine,
The biggest and the roundest one
Is going to be mine.
I’ll carve his eyes, a nose, and mouth,
Like no one’s ever seen,
Then set him on the window ledge
The eve of Halloween.
He’ll celebrate this night of nights,
Atop this special place,
So those who pass beneath his seat
Will see his glowing face.

7. The Evil Pumpkin Head Witch

       by Anonymous

An Evil Pumpkin Witch reigning over the pumpkin patch
Planning something sinister not being Pumpkinville’s match
But here is the catch
The Pumpkin Head Witch was vanished centuries ago from the Pumpkin patch
Through our journeys on hills and our thinking on still
Pumpkinville’s town folks decreed a curse
Somehow from the latch the Pumpkin Head Witch was freed in reverse
Now the witch is determined to get her revenge
Darkness casts over Pumpkinville as doom with an end
Danger in the air raging from multitude pumpkin heads
It was a showering effect like a stead
Warriors being the pumpkin heads
The Pumpkin Head Witch’s spell
The citizens in commotion could sense in tell
A sigh at the moment of Oh well
But Pumpkinville had a plan of their own
However the citizens can’t say as it is a spell and they don’t want it to be known
The Evil Pumpkin Witch is having a time in her stride
The hour is now, but there is no sign for abide
Yet the town of Pumpkinville all run for some place to hide
But for the record in Pumpkinville’s book
All it takes is just one look
Pumpkinville’s wish in their own spell
Only seconds remaining that will tell
The wizardry of evil that might sell
The skies remain black and for Pumpkinville to just stand back
Lightening verses the foe, but fate will determine the outcome of the flow.

Inspirational Pumpkin Poems

These works use the humble pumpkin as a metaphor for growth, transformation, and the power of perseverance in inspirational poems about pumpkin that offer hope and encouragement.

1. Still Life with Pumpkin

       by Larry Schug

She’s perched a small pumpkin
on a candle stand atop the kitchen table–
an autumnal centerpiece.
Though it’s close to Halloween,
no jack-o-lantern face grins at you,
no flaming eyes flicker.
This little pumpkin does not move, of course;
there are no miniature horses to pull it
like a coach from the castle at midnight
and no fairy tale slipper has fallen from it.
This pumpkin is more a lesson,
a how-to on silent meditation,
a guide to learning to be what you are,
to live within your pumpkin-ness, as it were.

2. Old Pumpkin Head Learns a Lesson

       by Caren Krutsinger

Filled with despair and gloom was old pumpkin head.
His best friend had disappeared – both Charlie and Ned.
Where do you think they went? I asked him politely.
I guess they are angry with me, he said, and rightly.

I was not so nice, called them names and such.
I made fun of Charlie’s culture, you know he is Dutch.
I poked Ned in the chest a few times, real mean.
I guess Pumpkin Head learned a lesson on Halloween.

If you are not nice to people and push them away.
They might not be your friend the very next day.
Moral of this tale, be kind with every action and word.
Unless you want to live life alone, souring like curd.

3. Jack-O-Lantern

       by Emily Joyce

I am a pumpkin.
I am new and young and happy. The grass is comforting and cool. I spend my days lounging in the warm sun surrounded by other pumpkins.
I am a pumpkin.
The grass is changing but I am still comfortable.  The sun isn’t as warm but my company makes it all okay.
I am a pumpkin.
I have been taken from what I knew. Everything is different and I’m scared. Why has this happened?
I am a pumpkin.
Until I’m not.
I am a pumpkin but something is wrong.
My head hurts.
It’s gone.
I am a pumpkin.
I feel wrong.
I can feel you removing my seeds.
I know I can’t stop you but please, be gentle.
I am a pumpkin.
I am a pumpkin.
I am… hurting.
The carving is sharp and mechanical.
It’s excruciating.
It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.
Smile? Why?
I am a pumpkin.
I am a pumpkin.
I am a pumpkin no more.
I am a jack-o-lantern.
I am changed.
I am sore and in pain.
I am bitter but concealed.
I am a jack-o-lantern.
Watch me wither.
Watch me rot.
Watch me smile.

4. Weathered Sarcophagus

       by Jose J Hernandez

Harken the forgetful herald
harvest time came and went
arid air more stiff than a board
hollow stares at the frostings

Not even a raven or crow fare
like the tired greens that sleep
auburn shaded leaves bloom
vigilantly faithful like cold silence

Left to hang on the trusted nail
with clothes that are now wet
limp happiness the color of straw
with hot pumpkin spice dreams

A few steps away from the door
where warmth and comfort wait
but the heartless are left to roam
as they so carelessly walk on by

5. Pumpkin Night

       by Anonymous

Through the ages of Pumpkin time
It all started within the Pumpkin patch
It went beyond the Halloween catch
Happenings involving a moonless night
Occurrence after another
Pumpkin’s from around the world were rising and turning into blood thirsty Zombies
They were stalking Human life
No time to explain in advice
I am too busy running for my life
The night is about survival
The Pumpkin’s are walking among us
They search and moan for a hearty meal
The pumpkin’s want to rejuvenate
This is the night of “Pumpkin Retreat”
Lock all your doors and keep your windows closed
It’s the Midnight hour
The pumpkins rejoice and not turn sour
In the eyes of pumpkin sight
Darkness prevails with no light
There is a reason for fright
The night is alive and the pumpkins shall strive
The pumpkins are coming for you, Good Night
Be careful, don’t turn off the light.

Short Pumpkin Poems

Sometimes the simplest words can be the most powerful. Short poetries about pumpkin capture the essence of these delightful fruits in just a few lines, making them perfect for social media or greeting cards.

1. The Pumpkin-Eater

       by Mother Goose

Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater,
Had a wife and couldn’t keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.

2. Perfect Pumpkins

       by Anonymous

Perfect Pumpkins big and round
They lay upon the muddy ground
with leaves and vines all intertwined
THAT’S the one that should be mine

3. Pumpkin Time

       by Anonymous

October is pumpkin time,
The nicest time of year.
When all the pumpkins light their eyes,
and grin from ear to ear.
Because they know at Halloween,
They’ll have lots of fun.
Peeking through the window panes
and watching people run!

4. Jack-O’-Lantern

       by John B. Tabb

“Jack-O’-Lantern, Jack-o’-Lantern,
Tell me where you hide by day?”
“In the cradle where the vapours
Dream the sunlit hours away.”
“Jack-o’-Lantern, Jack-o’-Lantern,
Who rekindles you at night?”
“Any firefly in the meadow
Lends a Jack-o’-Lantern light.”

5. Pumpkin Carving

       by Anonymous

Get the pencil, Get the knives,
We can’t wait til night arrives!
Pumpkin Carving is so much fun,
Scoop out the seeds, we’re almost done!
Take off the lid, Put in a light,
Keep us scared all Halloween Night!

6. I Did Not See That

       by Caren Krutsinger

Glowing gleaming pumpkin on a fancy autumn fence.
We watch him counting his money, dropping six pence.
He picks it up and glowers at us, causing a bit of offense.
I didn’t see that says a colleague, of course he’s rather dense.

7. Pumpkin (A Mirrored Acrostic)

       by Laurie Grommett

Prize pumpkin pile, perfectly plump
Unique jack-o-lanterns bred for you
Mixed up medley by a nearby farm
Pageant posed for a harvest stomp
King-size spiderman sells his stock
In orange, white or dotted tutti-frutti
Nickels, dimes, or quarters, stop in

Long Pumpkin Poems

For those who want to delve deeper into the rich tapestry of pumpkin imagery and symbolism, long poetries about pumpkin offer a more immersive and satisfying experience.

1. Frost on The Pumpkin

       by Roger Turner

There’s frost on the pumpkin
My life is nearly done
I’ve caused a lot of heartbreak
And I had a lot of fun
I lived a life of excess
Lived like I was twenty one
But, there’s frost on this pumpkin
And my time here’s nearly done

I’ve done more
in my short life
than most folks
do in ten
there’s nothing
that i’ve done
i wouldn’t do again

nothing ventured
nothing gained
you’ve got to show
you were around
nothing ventured
nothing gained
before they
put you in the ground

leave a mark
large or small
just enough
so people think
do things
that create stories
you can laugh at
with a drink

nothing ventured
nothing gained
time is getting close
there”s frost
on this old pumpkin
there’s no
petals on the rose

live your life
with feeling
make sure
they know you’re here
be the one
that folks remember
don’t live your life
in fear

There’s frost on the pumpkin
My life is nearly done
I’ve caused a lot of heartbreak
And I had a lot of fun
I lived a life of excess
Lived like I was twenty one
But, there’s frost on this pumpkin
And my time here’s nearly done

2. The Pumpkin

       by Winslow Homer

Oh, greenly and fair in the lands of the sun,
The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run,
And the rock and the tree and the cottage enfold,
With broad leaves all greenness and blossoms all gold,
Like that which o’er Nineveh’s prophet once grew,
While he waited to know that his warning was true,
And longed for the storm-cloud, and listened in vain
For the rush of the whirlwind and red fire-rain.

On the banks of the Xenil the dark Spanish maiden
Comes up with the fruit of the tangled vine laden;
And the Creole of Cuba laughs out to behold
Through orange-leaves shining the broad spheres of gold;
Yet with dearer delight from his home in the North,
On the fields of his harvest the Yankee looks forth,
Where crook-necks are coiling and yellow fruit shines,
And the sun of September melts down on his vines.

Ah! on Thanksgiving day, when from East and from West,
From North and from South come the pilgrim and guest,
When the gray-haired New Englander sees round his board
The old broken links of affection restored,
When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more,
And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before,
What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye?
What calls back the past, like the rich Pumpkin pie?

Oh, fruit loved of boyhood! the old days recalling,
When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling!
When wild, ugly faces we carved in its skin,
Glaring out through the dark with a candle within!
When we laughed round the corn-heap, with hearts all in tune,
Our chair a broad pumpkin,—our lantern the moon,
Telling tales of the fairy who travelled like steam,
In a pumpkin-shell coach, with two rats for her team!

Then thanks for thy present! none sweeter or better
E’er smoked from an oven or circled a platter!
Fairer hands never wrought at a pastry more fine,
Brighter eyes never watched o’er its baking, than thine!
And the prayer, which my mouth is too full to express,
Swells my heart that thy shadow may never be less,
That the days of thy lot may be lengthened below,
And the fame of thy worth like a pumpkin-vine grow,
And thy life be as sweet, and its last sunset sky
Golden-tinted and fair as thy own Pumpkin pie!

3. Peppy the Littlest Pumpkin

       by Adine Cathey

peppy was among those left sitting
in a very large pumpkin patch,
he had sat watching as so many other pumpkins
were being carried in a strong arm latch.

a week or two had gone by
people had been coming, but went right on past,
they headed to the big ones – he was too small
probably would be left to go near the last.

there were children of all ages
they were walking all about,
they had arrived to pick just the right one
the school bus had let them out.

they ran fast up and down the rows
looking here and there,
just completely passed up peppy
without so much as a stare.

he was a very little pumpkin
might not be chosen by anyone today,
time was passing on and the pumpkins were disappearing
looked like he was gonna be here to stay.

late in the evening – two young girls and their brother
were walking slowly – had passed peppy by,
they were holding onto their mother’s hand
did not have a pumpkin yet and let out a sigh

peppy was lying near the path
they had passed him once before,
guess they had decided not to get a pumpkin
and were not going to look anymore.

then suddenly the least little girl squealed
she had spied the little pumpkin at last,
this one is beautiful – just her size
she ran over to peppy going really fast.

there were lots bigger and better shaped pumpkins
sitting in the patch – peppy seen them all around,
but just then the children reached him
and picked peppy up off the ground.

he looked around at the remaining pumpkins
they seemed to be a jolly crowd,
it pleased the little pumpkin as he was carried
out of the patch – he felt so very proud.

the oldest girl had also found her perfect one
he wasn’t very big – but nice and tall,
she seemed to be very happy with her find
considered hers the very best one of all.

the little girl hugged him dirt and all
as the little boy looked for one pumpkin more,
they would sit their three pumpkins on the porch
quite near the front door.

the children were delighted with their pumpkins
they sat them in the seat on their ride home,
took them into the house cause it was late
did not want them left to be on the porch alone.

it wasn’t long until halloween drew near
they were busy carving a scary face,
some jagged teeth, a square nose, two pointed eyes
an orange candle inside they did place.

sitting on the front porch step
peppy lit up halloween night,
he was very happy – not one bit scared
as he glowed an eerie orange light.

so all three little pumpkins did find a home
as jack-0-lanterns they were a fright,
no longer left alone in the pumpkin patch
their eyes were twinkling very bright.

4. When the Frost is on the Punkin

       by James Whitcomb Riley

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,
And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens,
And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,
With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;
But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo’ lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover over-head!—
O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin’ ’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! …
I don’t know how to tell it—but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me—
I’d want to ’commodate ’em—all the whole-indurin’ flock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock!

5. The Atheist and The Acorn

       by Anne Kingsmill Finch

Methinks this World is oddly made,
And ev’ry thing’s amiss,
A dull presuming Atheist said,
As stretch’d he lay beneath a Shade;
And instanced in this:

Behold, quoth he, that mighty thing,
A Pumpkin, large and round,
Is held but by a little String,
Which upwards cannot make it spring,
Or bear it from the Ground.

Whilst on this Oak, a Fruit so small,
So disproportion’d, grows;
That, who with Sence surveys this All,
This universal Casual Ball,
Its ill Contrivance knows.

My better Judgment wou’d have hung
That Weight upon a Tree,
And left this Mast, thus slightly strung,
‘Mongst things which on the Surface sprung,
And small and feeble be.

No more the Caviller cou’d say,
Nor farther Faults descry;
For, as he upwards gazing lay,
An Acorn, loosen’d from the Stay,
Fell down upon his Eye.

Th’ offended Part with Tears ran o’er,
As punish’d for the Sin:
Fool! had that Bough a Pumpkin bore,
Thy Whimseys must have work’d no more,
Nor Scull had kept them in.

6. Signs of The Times

       by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Air a-gittin’ cool an’ coolah,
Frost a-comin’ in de night,
Hicka’ nuts an’ wa’nuts fallin’,
Possum keepin’ out o’ sight.
Tu’key struttin’ in de ba’nya’d,
Nary step so proud ez his;
Keep on struttin’, Mistah Tu’key,
Yo’ do’ know whut time it is.
Cidah press commence a-squeakin’
Eatin’ apples sto’ed away,
Chillun swa’min’ ‘roun’ lak ho’nets,
Huntin’ aigs ermung de hay.
Mistah Tu’key keep on gobblin’
At de geese a-flyin’ souf,
Oomph! dat bird do’ know whut’s comin’;
Ef he did he ‘d shet his mouf.
Pumpkin gittin’ good an’ yallah
Mek me open up my eyes;
Seems lak it’s a-lookin’ at me
Jes’ a-la’in’ dah sayin’ “Pies.”
Tu’key gobbler gwine ‘roun’ blowin’,
Gwine ‘roun’ gibbin’ sass an’ slack;
Keep on talkin’, Mistah Tu’key,
You ain’t seed no almanac.
Fa’mer walkin’ th’oo de ba’nya’d
Seein’ how things is comin’ on,
Sees ef all de fowls is fatt’nin’—
Good times comin’ sho ‘s you bo’n.
Hyeahs dat tu’key gobbler braggin’,
Den his face break in a smile—
Nebbah min’, you sassy rascal,
He ‘s gwine nab you atter while.
Choppin’ suet in de kitchen,
Stonin’ raisins in de hall,
Beef a-cookin’ fu’ de mince meat,
Spices groun’—I smell ’em all.
Look hyeah, Tu’key, stop dat gobblin’,
You ain’ luned de sense ob feah,
You ol’ fool, yo’ naik ‘s in dangah,
Do’ you know Thanksgibbin ‘s hyeah?

7. To The Sound of Violins

       by Barry Tebb

Give me life at its most garish
Friday night in the Square, pink sequins dazzle
And dance on clubbers bare to the midriff
Young men in crisp shirts and pressed pants
‘Dress code smart’ gyrate to ‘Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb’
And sing along its lyrics to the throng of which I’m one
My shorts, shoulder bag and white beard
Making me stand out in the teeming swarm
Of teens and twenties this foetid Friday night
On my way from the ward where our son paces
And fulminates I throw myself into the drowning
Tide of Friday to be rescued by sheer normality.

The mill girl with her mates asks anxiously
“Are you on your own? Come and join us
What’s your name?” Age has driven my shyness away
As I join the crowd beneath the turning purple screens
Bannered ‘Orgasm lasts for ever’ and sip unending
Halves of bitter, as I circulate among the crowd,
Being complete in itself and out for a good night out,
A relief from factory, shop floor and market stall
Running from the reality of the ward where my son
Pounds the ledge with his fist and seems out to blast
My very existence with words like bullets.

The need to anaesthetise the pain resurfaces
Again and again.
In Leeds City Square where
Pugin’s church, the Black Prince and the Central Post Office
In its Edwardian grandeur are startled by the arching spumes
Or white water fountains and the steel barricades of Novotel
Rise from the ruins of a sixties office block.

I hurry past and join Boar Lane’s Friday crew
From Keighley and Dewsbury’s mills, hesitating
At the thought of being told I’m past my
Sell-by-date and turned away by the West Indian
Bouncers, black-suited and city-council badged
Who checked my bag but smiled at ‘The Lights of
Leeds’ and ‘Poets of Our Time’ tucked away as carefully as condoms-
Was it guns or drugs they were after
I wondered as I crossed the bare boards to the bar.

I stayed near the fruit machine which no-one played,
Where the crowd was thickest, the noise drowned out the pain
‘Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb’ the chorus rang
The girls joined in but the young men knew
The words no more than me.
Dancing as we knew it
In the sixties has gone, you do your own thing
And follow the beat, hampered by my bag
I just kept going, letting the music and the crowd
Hold me, my camera eye moving in search, in search…
What I’m searching for I don’t know
Searching’s a way of life that has to grow
“All of us who are patients here are searchers after truth”
My son kept saying, his legs shaking from the side effects
Of God-knows- what, pacing the tiny ward kitchen cum smoking room,
Denouncing his ‘illegal section’ and ‘poisonous medication’
To an audience of one.

The prospect of TV, Seroxat and Diazepan fazed me:
I was beyond unravelling Meltzer on differentiation
Of self and object or Rosine Josef Perelberg on ‘Dreaming and Thinking’
Or even the simpler ‘Rise and Crisis of Psychoanalysis in the United States’
So I went out with West Yorkshire on a Friday night.

Nothing dramatic happened; perhaps I’m a little too used
To acute wards or worse where chairs fly across rooms,
Windows disintegrate and double doors are triple locked
And every nurse carries a white panic button and black pager
To pinpoint the moment’s crisis.
Normality was a bit of adrenaline,
A wild therapy that drew me in, sanity had won the night.

“Are you on your own, love? Come and join us”
People kept asking if I was alright and why
I had that damned great shoulder bag.
I was introduced
To three young men about to tie the knot, a handsome lothario
In his midforties winked at me constantly,
Dancing with practised ease with sixteen year olds
Who all seemed to know him and determined to show him.

Three hours passed in as many minutes and then the crowds
Disappeared to catch the last bus home.
The young aren’t
As black as they are painted, one I danced with reminded me
Of how Margaret would have been at sixteen
With straw gold hair Yeats would have immortalised.

People seemed to guess I was haunted by an inner demon
I’d tried to leave in the raftered lofts of City Square
But failed to.
Girls from sixteen to twenty six kept grabbing me
And making me dance and I found my teenage inhibitions
Gone at sixty-one and wildly gyrated to ‘Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb’
Egged on by the throng by the fruit machine and continuous
Thumbs-up signs from passing men.
I had to forgo
A cheerful group of Aussies were intent on taking me clubbing
“I’d get killed or turned into a pumpkin
If I get home after midnight” I quipped to their delight
But being there had somehow put things right.

Pumpkin Poems That Rhyme

Add a playful touch to your pumpkin poetry with poems about pumpkin with rhyming words that celebrate the rhythms and sounds of these delightful gourds.

1. Come Along Birds Choose Your Pumpkin Pie

       by Caren Krutsinger

Come along birds, chose your pumpkin pie.
You are crows? Great! Let me see you fly!
Okay, one at a time, don’t shove with your wings.
It is bullyish behavior, and sadness it brings.

There are enough pumpkins for each, one and all.
We can have such a great time. We welcome fall!
I love it that you are thrilled with my pumpkin pie.
But how on earth will you be able to lift it and fly?

2. An Eerie Wanga Dust

       by Laurie Grommett

A melted golden haze suspends
in wizard dust at wash of dawn
when daylight bursts around the bend
to swarm as bees in honey, yawn.

The fields are dormant, dry, asleep
and husks of corn lay on the ground
as harvest crops are still to reap
when tractors boom, thanksgiving bound.

Then, high above a whispered blue
embellishes the tonal roast
of earth and sky as fallen shrew,
her costume call as pumpkin’s ghost.

While amber, lemon, saffron brew,
a wicked witch hides out of view!

3. Mr Cat Has Fallen for a Pumpkin Vine

       by Caren Krutsinger

Mr Cat has fallen completely in love with a pumpkin vine.
He is cozy and happy for his relationship is furiously fine.
We tell stories about his story. I am glad it’s not mine.
I know that there is an expiration date on each pumpkin vine.

4. Halloween

       by Gina Marie

It’s the time of year when monsters knock on your door
and you don’t even question what they’ve come for.
When pumpkins have faces and faces have masks
and children get candy without even having to ask.
It’s the time when goblins can be found on the street
and ghosts and witches say “trick-or-treat!”
It’s the time to decorate with oranges and blacks,
go to a haunted house, hayride, or pumpkin patch.
It’s the time to dress up like a clown or a cat,
a caveman or princess or vampire bat.
It’s the time that comes at the end of October,
and it’s time to get more candy before
Halloween is over!

5. A Trick-or-Treater’s Tip-Off

       by Laurie Grommett

When peter pumpkin acts surprise
at children dressed in masked disguise,
the lunar carvings of his eyes
caramelize, caramelize.

As apple spice on candle wick
begins to quiver round and flick
go grab onto marshmallow stick,
and burn a lick, and burn a lick.

This scrumptious sweet is glazed delight
with hershey bar on party night,
but halloween makes fluffy bite
just out of sight, just out of sight.

If psychedelic orange glows
and owl’s gaze through window shows,
they’re ghosts and goblins counting toes;
blow out through nose, blow out through nose!

6. Pumpkin Girl is Lucky

       by Caren Krutsinger

Pumpkin girl has swept up a large cat
Are you sure it was not a bat or a rat?
Oh, no, my friend, it was a furry feline pure.
It was meowing and snuggling and nesting for sure.

Pumpkin girl always gets the best breaks.
I always sweep up lizards, toads, frogs and snakes.
Why should she be the one who gets a kitty?
To add fuel to the fire, she is incredibly pretty.

7. Jack the Cricket

       by Caren Krutsinger

Jack the cricket was sneaking around in the dell.
He smelled the pumpkins, they had a ripe smell.
I think I should take one to my cousin Big Mel.
He whispered this to his friend, Miss Trickety Tee Tell.

She was a persnickety lady bug who he thought was swell.
Her pantaloons were lacy, trimmed with a pearl and bell.
She sneaked glances at Jack, the cricket, from the farmer’s dell.
I think he’s a keeper, she confided to her cousin, Big Mel.

8. Some are Fearful of Flexible Head Woman

       by Caren Krutsinger

Sneaky flexible head woman hiding in the pumpkin patch
Wearing produce as her face, she is a lovely catch.
Will she be putting her head back on any time soon?
That probably depends on the light of October moon.

She is a witch; the neighbors sometimes surmise.
They see her antics and tricks in the light of sunrise.
Sneaky flexible head woman is watching them with her evil eye.
The fearful ones who notice are afraid they might die.

Pumpkin Poems for Kids

Get young imaginations fired up with fun and engaging pumpkin poems for toddlers that capture the magic and wonder of fall and Halloween.

1. Pumpkin

       by Anonymous

We bought a fat orange pumpkin,
The plumpest sort they sell.
We neatly scooped the inside out
and only left the shell.
We carved a funny funny-face
of silly shape and size,
A pointy nose,
a jagged mouth and two enormous eyes.
We set it in a window
and we put a candle in,
Then lit it up
for all to see Our jack-o-lantern grin.

2. Pumpkin Fun

       by Marvin Scott Mcdonald Jr

My little pumpkin
Are you my pumpkin?
My little pumpkin pie

My little pumpkin
Come out and play
Or are you going to stay?

Are you a Jack o’ Lantern?
With a Candle light
To light the night?

Waiting for the night
To shine your light
My Jack o’ Lantern bright!

3. Pumpkin Seeds

       by Anonymous

One day I found two pumpkin seeds.
I planted one and pulled the weeds.
It sprouted roots and a big, long vine.
A 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!)

4. Pumpkin Time

       by Barbara R Maxwell

It’s getting to be pumpkin time
The time of magic and fun
A time when there’s a chill in the air
Apples abound along with scents of cinnamon
Carved jack o lanterns
Faces etched creatively
Candles lit

It’s getting to be pumpkin time
The beginning of the holiday season
When cookies are baked
Pies made
Children dress up in costumes
Seeking a reward of candy and other goodies

It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of celebration
A time of remembering
Good friends
And traditions
Where turkeys are roasted
Sweet potatoes baked
Cranberries served

It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of holiday cheer
Hot chocolate
Apple cider
Herbal tea
And peppermint

It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of snow falls
Snowball fights
Laughter and glee
Trees decorated

It’s getting to be pumpkin time

5. Pumpkins

       by Sharon Froese

Pumpkins, pumpkins in a patch
As far as I can see
Pumpkins, pumpkins in a patch
Look, that one’s bigger than me!

I need a pumpkin nice and round
So I can carve a face
And when I’ve found the perfect one
I’ll bring it back to my place

I’ll make a nice big pumpkin smile
That’ll light the night with cheer
My small little pumpkin from the patch
This colorful time of year

6. The Purple Pumpkin

       by Charles C

Waiting for the white paper
which underlies this writing
to loose a flow of words
finding Peace
in the facing-off:
a pumpkin and a purple cushion..
Henry David Thoreau chose
to sit on a solitary pumpkin
not a crowded purple cushion..
Many we know might charge him
with most slothful neglect..
Our venerable teachers
have exhorted us to
lift up the purple
with their assumption:
what is real is purple..
Yet we..startled by experience
find that very often
purple is pain..
We long to sit on that pumpkin
long since overgrown
with dead purple vines..
At last in our longing
the pumpkin may speak
of what lies in hiding
.. ’til just now..
with Peace emerging
the Pumpkin is Purple…

7. Pumpkins Pumpkins

       by Randi Hites

Pumpkins Pumpkins
all around
so many pumpkins
on the ground

I found mine
as you can see
so fat and plump
and all for me!

Pumpkin Poems for Adults

For those who want to explore the darker and more complex aspects of pumpkin imagery, pumpkin poems for adults offer a more mature and nuanced perspective.

1. Pumpkin Seeds

       by Star Bg

Pumpkin seeds,
sprouted in head,
making way for
dreams of marching
in the Halloween Parade possible.

Pumpkin seeds,
expanded in mind,
gives self a grand idea
for Halloween costume
destined to win first place.

Pumpkin seeds,
growing in head
produces pumpkin,
with eyes that glow like moon
on October night.

Pumpkin seeds,
beware you don’t
eat too many.
Otherwise you might become one,
meant to be cut and displayed
at doorstep ledge.

2. Pumpkin Pie

       by Kelly Rose

I am the Pumpkin Pie
I rule….
Woofer drools with envy
Over the Pumpkin Pie
Oh, yeah he tries so hard
To Usurp me
But I grab that dude
by his ear
And drag his *** about
Cause that Fool
is no Pumpkin Pie
I rule the Roost.

Just a few words
by Pumpkin Pie
The most supreme
dog of the Land

3. Nectar in A Pumpkin

       by Anonymous

Have you ever burn for someone
You can never have
The nectar of the gods
Will only drive you mad
Do you wonder what might be
If we had never been
If we could rewind time
Would we fall in love again

At this point I could never stop
I would bite her even deeper
No way I would throw her back
In a pumpkin I would keep her

Gypsy girl the way you shake your stuff
Make me know that I’m alive
Country girl I like to feel you up
Before I tie you down and drive

At this point I could never stop
I woud bite her even deeper
No way I would ever throw her back
In a pumpkin I would keep her

4. Naughty Peter Pumpkin

       by Shaun Cronick

His name is Peter Pumpkin,
And he loves to misbehave.
This naughty little pixie,
On trees his name engraved.

He’ll hide up a mighty oak,
Enjoys making others cry.
By throwing acorns at them,
As they go passing by.

Peter would hide for hours
An oak an elm and willow.
And if a pixie fell asleep,
Then look far down below.

One day as Peter perched there,
He had such a terrible fright.
Falling out he hit the ground,
And serves him jolly well right.

So this naughty Peter Pumpkin,
Learnt from his unruly strife.
For its dangerous being naughty,
And safer to be good in life.

5. Guts of a Pumpkin

       by Quinton Horras Yard

Folded pieces of paper.
Old past due assignments.
Made paper footballs with-
Corners pointed like diamonds.

Spent all that time.
Scooping out room for-
You in my heart.
Like guts of a pumpkin.

Stay close to you I tried.
But the pumpkin got rotten.
Corners got bent.
And my company unwanted.

A couple of cans of root beer.
Sitting along my windowsill.
Sitting still, lukewarm and flat.
Dragging in gnats.

I remade my bed.
Cleared off the pillows-
I pretended were you-
And made room for two.

I took down the pictures.
I took down the lights.
Took down some notes on-
How to resist my-

Need to be loved and-
My want to be fine.
My urge to move forward and-
Hunger to fight.

I get lost in the right-
Ideas and go wrong.
I hope that you don’t think-
That I belong here.

6. Pumpkin

       by Bo Burnham

Someone carved a face in that pumpkin,
and now it’s perched on a stoop, grinning
with the same sinister grin the carver must have had
when he carved it.

And everything I recognize as expressive
(the triangular eyes, that big toothy smile)
is marked by a lack of pumpkin.
A red face of dead space.

And now I’m seeing just the opposite.
I see two spots where the eyes should be,
an open wound where the mouth once sat,
and a fire within, baking the insides.

7. Trick or Treat

       by Anonymous

For he was the treat for the flowers to bloom.
Blood lilacs and roses of the night had a taste for certain
nourishment, and they only drank on each hollows eve…

She smiled as she sat on the pumpkin patch, that hand
of her fathers features just revealing enough for her to allure
the curious to not take her features as a needing for sorrow.
but more of a trick to treat that what thirsted out back..

Halloween Pumpkin Poems

Celebrate the spooky and whimsical aspects of Halloween with pumpkin poems that capture the magic and mystery of this bewitching holiday.

1. The Hallowe’en Surprise

       by Anonymous

Dad and I shopped for a pumpkin
To carve for Halloween.
The one we bought was round and fat,
The best we’d ever seen.
We took it home, and carefully
My dad cut off the top.
We scooped the gloppy seeds all out
Onto paper – plop, plop, plop!
Next, Dad cut out the eyes and mouth,
Then he cut out the nose.
He winked at me and then he said,
‘He’ll be bald, I suppose.’
I laughed and said, ‘Oh, Daddy,
Jack-o-lanterns’ heads are bare.
I’ve never seen a single one
That had a head of hair!’
Then we took our pumpkin outside
With a candle for its light.
Our jolly jack-o-lantern glowed
So brightly in the night.
Long after I had gone to bed,
Snowflakes began to fall.
They covered up the bushes
And the garden and the wall.
In the morning I ran out to see
If my pumpkin was still there.
I found him sitting on the porch –
But now he had white hair!

2. It Is Finally Halloween Time

       by Anonymous

It is finally Halloween time,
So together let us rhyme.
Skip the candies and the pumpkin,
Let us feast on blood tonight.
Jack O’ Lantern is smiling bright,
Frankenstein is laughing at your plight.
Have a horrific Halloween.

3. The Halloween Pumpkin

       by Daisy Ward

A pumpkin grabs hold of my hand
Then tried to do a handstand
He wouldn’t let go
So, I threw him through the door
His pieces was buried in the sand

4. De’ja Boo

       by Nancy Hughes

If we choose to believe witches can fly
on magical broomsticks up in the sky,
and every year at Octobers end
ghosts upon us do descend,
that black cats shriek at scary sights,
and pumpkins glow with eerie lights,
then once again for me and you,
Halloween is de’ja Boo!

5. Halloween Will Frighten You

       by Anonymous

The Demon’s cradle rocks to and fro,
Frankenstein’s knocking at the door.
The spooky goblins are calling out your name,
The pumpkin is waiting for you out in the rain.
Be ready for the skeleton’s dance tonight,
I’m sure this Halloween will give you a fright.
Have a scary Halloween.

6. Hallowe’en Sounds

       by Anonymous

This is the way the ghosts go by,
Oooh, oooh , oooh.
This is the way the black cats howl, black cats howl,
black cats howl,
This is the way the black cats howl,
Meow! Meow! Meow!
This is the way the pumpkins laugh, pumpkins laugh,
pumpkins laugh,
This is the way the pumpkins laugh,
Hee! Hee! Hee!
This the way the night owls cry, night owls cry,
night owls cry,
This is the way the night owls cry,
Hoo, hoo, hoo.

7. Pumpkins Are Here

       by Mary

The pumpkins are here;
The pumpkins are there.
The pumpkins, the pumpkins
are everywhere.

The pumpkins are up;
the pumpkins are down.
The pumpkins, the pumpkins
are all around.

The pumpkins are in;
the pumpkins are out.
The pumpkins, the pumpkins
are all about.

The pumpkins are low;
the pumpkins are high.
The pumpkins, the pumpkins
all say, “Goodbye!”

8. A Safe Hallowe’en

       by Anonymous

Halloween night
Is a scary fun time,
With goblins and ghosts
And lanterns that shine.
But don’t use a candle,
A flashlight is right
To light up your pump

9. Hallowe’en Night

       by Anonymous

Come on along
The moon is shining bright
There are goblins and witches
And black cats out tonight.
Those ghosts and pumpkins
Gave me a fright.
Oh, but it’s scary
On Hallowe’en night!

Final Thoughts

Pumpkin poems offer a delightful and inspiring way to celebrate the beauty and magic of fall and Halloween.

Whether you’re a seasoned poet or a novice writer, there is a pumpkin poem for every mood and occasion, from funny and playful to haunting and thought-provoking.

Through their vivid imagery and rich symbolism, pumpkin poems allow us to connect with the natural world and tap into the timeless themes of growth, transformation, and the cycles of life and death.

So whether you’re carving a jack-o-lantern or sipping pumpkin spice latte, take a moment to savor the wonder of pumpkins and the creative energy poems about pumpkin.

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