The Everlasting Harvest

The Everlasting Harvest

Sitting upon a bank of snow,I could not imagine so,

Having had a better harvest, of the grain we need so dear,

Looking at the pumpkin so ripe,seeing all the joy in life,

one could nary begin to strife,I imagined all the gourds,

but not the apple cider so,only a wish cast to us,

was the aura of Halloween, to see a black cat's subtle gleam,

and only in the years to pass, will this harvest be alone,

how i could have so forgotten, a fresh and hot pumpkin scone