It seems such a long time ago now…..New Pumpkinny was still in his prime then
He had a dream, a dream of Christmas……to celebrate in Rome with the Pope…..to bring toys to all the little girls and boys…..
But time was catching up on our little squashoid……He did get a sleigh and a bag of toys, but would he last long enough to fulfill his dreams…
Not lookin’ to good
He was going to need some help
A** pumpkinnaps Newpumpkinny
He is Here
‘Twas the night before the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
That was because none of the family was there.
They had set on their way to do something quite rare.
Pumpkiny had been nestled all snug in his sleigh,
But on this night before the night before Christmas, ‘twas time for his play.
Daughter in her cancer cap and Momma behind the wheel,
The two fair ladies buckled in and departed with a peel.
Another daughter donned a mask, Father paced the floor.
When Momma called from down the road, they jetted out the door.
The gals had gone and cased the joint, and oh, did it look fine:
Not a soul was at the church when, now, the clock struck nine.
Out on the porch there arose such a clatter,
And though they knew exactly what was the matter,
Father and daughter went out in the cold
To find their dear pumpkin, all covered in mold.
‘Twas Pumpkiny! He was the one making the noise!
Rustling around with his bag full of toys.
He was so, so excited for his voyage the first.
For it, his gently rotted eyes seemed to thirst.
He jumped, and he squealed, or he tried to, at least,
The lovable Pumpkiny, his leather now creased.
“I’m going to church!” he’d have exclaimed had he voice,
“For Christmas Eve, to help the congregation rejoice!”
The daughter lifted Pumpkiny, forgoing a kiss,
Though she knew his company she later would miss.
She cradled him tight, then set him in the truck bed.
The two hopped in the front, and, wishing for luck, fled.
Would they help him be freed? Would there be room in the creche?
Beside Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus’ manger, would there be space for rotting flesh?
They parked the truck, and only seconds passed,
Before their kin arrived and Pumpkiny was ready at last.
They jumped out of the truck without looking around.
There was no time; they must rush, lest they be found.
Running with Pumpkiny in his Santa beard and cap,
They placed him softly in the grass for his long winter’s nap.
“Go! Go!” Pumpkiny would have urged, again, if he could have spoken,
So the family members quickly switched cars, their hearts broken.
Was it right? Was it fair? They felt their resolve weaken.
Pumpkiny was supposed to be their Christmas beacon.
But once at home, when the third fair maiden wanted to see,
The whole family piled into the car, parents and daughters three.
And when they saw the scene again, Pumpkiny sitting in the night,
They knew in their hearts that what they’d done was exactly right.
Pumpkiny looked perfect! He lit up that lawn!
He’d be there all Christmas, or at least ‘til the dawn.
The manger incomplete without a bright orange sleigh,
Now the congregation truly could pray.
It was then that they realized the true meaning of love:
To let go when it’s right, to share grace from above.
Pumpkiny only decayed on their porch for a second,
But truly he’d be with them much longer, they reckoned.