the freshness...my eyes bertray my maturity as the scent takes me~
the full pumpkin sits on the porch of my mind and swims in my mental lake, deep~
the crisp autumn air flutters my nose the sight paints vividly on my eyes~
the last time i saw this pumpkin was the first time my woman felt rigidity in her thighs~
the pumpkin in its juicy prime the smooth air dances its contures on my finger tips~
it gives me memories of my mother told by my lively cheeks where once lingered lips~
the pumpkins birth burst with richness my mental porch filled with love~
the result of my wife's lack of taking the pill is a dove~
now the glinting rusted gold i see glinting in my little girl's soul~
takes me back to this pumpkin full of life rare like a pearl but bold~
but last i saw it was months ago possibly years my mind has often told lies~
i pray that this pumpkin's image might cling to me even after my body and soul dies~
the beauty of the fullness but my eyes have not slept on its sight often~
reality has gripped my lost images my eyes removed the pumpkin is rotten~
1luv.