happispirit

Somewhere in Vancouver... There was a pumpkin named John Grimacing at the trick-or-treaters Crossing his front lawn Why was his name John? It could’ve been Jack, for all we know Sneering at the costumed kids Going to and fro Maybe it was Halloween Or the carving of his face That left him in a grumpy mood At an alarming, growing pace Still, he did nothing But sport a grim frown As his subordinates spread the cheer All throughout the town If you saw his face He looked like a shrivelled prawn He’s one peculiar pumpkin: That pumpkin named John Long story short, John’s not angry Instead, he’s enveloped