Porgy Pumpkin

Porgy Pumpkin

Porgy Pumpkin is my name
just a squash of no fame.

But there's danger being me
it's when fall arrives, you see.

To the field, many folks come
a bright orb of orange, seek some.

A face to cut, they hope to try
or to slice me up in a pie.

Worse still is that naughty kid
who will smash me, gods forbid.

But if I'm left on the ground
froze by winter, I'll be found.

I lived a happy season here
but now comes tragedy, I fear.