Welcome to the latest round of Iron Poet, the game where you give me three words and I give you a poem. This is an adaptation of a standard writer's workshop activity, and I do not claim the original concept. I just claim to enjoy doing it
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And tie your pumpkin soul into a bow.
The harvest tide is coming far too soon
For jack-o-lantern lovers to let go.
And I have loved you darling, loved you well,
Have loved you from the stalk down to the root,
But as the autumn apples start to swell,
The leaves fall down, and all the world bears fruit.
For scarecrow lovers never see the frost;
We are the ghosts of seasons left behind.
So kiss me once before our time is lost.
I'll blow your candle out, and leave you blind.
The seeds we scatter now will someday sprout.
I know this well. My darling, have no doubt.
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