A ripe morning gave way to a crisp breeze

and upon the horizon a speck appeared out of fertile air

and made my body seize.

The figure now sprouted limbs and its posture erect.

So I pried myself from my stupor to scale this insect,

from the homestead I read him like scripture.

A strange aura emanated

it was parasitic and it was foreign.

I took a look at my fields of maize and pumpkins

and I was enraged by what I now saw.

So I jumped to action, I laced up my boots

and I buttoned up my Thursday best

and slammed the door wide open.

Now the awnings rattle as I chase this pest.

Perhaps I've been too hard on you my boy

I'm sure I could spare you just one of my pumpkins.

Now hold on a second that doesn't sound quite like me

I'd never give up one of my pumpkins so easily.

How about you run down to your local farmers market or greengrocer and pick up yourself a pumpkin of the Kent or butternut variety.

I don't really care what it is,

just as long as you stay away from my fucking pumpkins.