Where the Pumpkins Grow

Where the Pumpkins Grow
from a journal written by
Donna Turnbull


Down in the fields where the pumpkins grow,
Magic lies there as we well know.
Dark is the night and the stars grow pale.
October winds make a howling gale.
Black is the night and gold is the moon.
Witches are riding and none too soon.
Black cats are yowling with backs arched high,
While the moon glows gold in the midnight sky.
Owls hoot, 'whoo, whoo' and look very wise.
And bats fly eerily across the skies.
Goblins and witches and shosts are seen.
For this, you remember is Hallow'een!