Harvest Moon Poem by Michelle Claus

(a fictitious tale)
September 8-9,2014

The heat had melted *every* one -
every pumpkin in our patch!
Our patch became an orange pond,
which worried every man and witch.

But Nature's clever, Nature's cool:
She gathered straw and formed a broom.
The broom she dipped in our pumpkin-pool,
then painted bright our Harvest Moon.
And it was Super.

Epilogue
The heat gave way to Autumn's chill,
which molded orange orbs anew.
Our pumpkin patch is fruitful still,
awaiting visitors, like you.

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