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In the mid-autumn days
amid the brown and dried
The pumpkinheads awaken
void and Argus-eyed

Patches of orange despair
for the coming cold nights
From the many that rise
some spawn into sprites

Hellish bound souls
with an evil intent
That seek out the lost
for a Hades descent

Made of rot and undead
a worm-ridden feast
With the head of a gourd
a most terrible beast

They’ll midnight call
and tap at your door
Begging to enter
wailing evermore

And just so you know
don't let them come in
For a banshee led chorus
will surely begin

A siren serenade
to put you to sleep
And steal of your spirit
to cast to the Deep

Their insatiable hunger
for the vim in us all
No measure of truth
can cause them to fall

Yet all you must do
to keep them at bay
Quite simply so
just look away

Their rage will desist
to the fields they shall go
There to be carved
as the lanterns we know

And some even still
into pies we will make
With fork to plate
no more lives they can take

But of the seeds cast out
some will be sown
To be reaped once more
when they have grown

So the cycle continues
and the range fills again
When the pumpkinheads knock
let them pass by your den

2017 Kelly R. Sullivan