Most folks love farms
Charmed by a pumpkin patch
When up hatch weird-shaped gourds

Give me a bag of kettle pop-corn
Adorned with sweet, warm apple pie
Oh my, they outdid themselves with this maze

Leaves ablaze, we all stroll down rows
And rows and rows of pumpkins displayed
Which lay, topple, and rot as we spot our own

I could die tonight, feeling
Fat and sassy, fulfilled and happy
Ready for that post car-ride nappy