Picked from the field
Under an autumnal moon
Magically transformed
Pulp gone, features carved
Kindled candle glowing
Intimidator of the meek
Notorious jack-o-lantern
Haunting front yards left and right
Oooing, booing, shrieking cries
Sounds that make our hackles rise
Terrified of sheets in flight.
Belfries host a score of them,
Attics may hide more of them,
Transylvania’s lore is full of them,
So why resist adoring them?
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