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A
pumpkin patch 'neath Harvest Moon,
A field of corn grew right beside,
And in the evening we would play,
In pumpkin patch and corn we'd hide.
We'd
walk the rows and then pretend,
That we were scarecrows full of straw,
And we'd protect our field of corn,
From ravens with their noisy "Caws".
And in
the pumpkin patch at night,
The Harvest Moon made shadows there,
Of ghosts and goblins; skeletons,
But we were brave and wouldn't scare.
When
we were done, we headed home,
Where Mom served corn and pumpkin pie,
The harvest of her sweated brow,
Was given us in large supply.
A
harvest and a loving home,
Are things that I remember now,
I thank the Lord for what I have,
And for these things I humbly bow.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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