Post by AquarianM on Oct 5, 2005 at 2:26am
Thunder Pumpkin...
Since that first Halloween in the Midwest,
It's been a legend of the Pumpkin Patch,
How the Great Pumpkin catches a ride.
I saw a fellow in buckskins walking the prairie trail,
Tracking his moccasins through October's morning dew,
Walking past tall golden fields of maize in the sunrise breeze,
As a hawk circled high above he stated his tale.
"Thunderbird leaves the great water of the West,
Rising high and breathing out clouds of dark breath,
Rains fall from his drying feathers,
Lightning flashes from his eyes and after the harvest he rests,
But he has on his last flight left a special task to do,"
"Thunderbird searches all the prairies and fields,
Searching for the largest pumpkin of perfect orange,
Searches in the tall waving grasses with his keen eyes,
Searches under the trees with lightning light,
He finds the world's biggest pumpkin each year,
He takes the pumpkin in his talons to the Great Spirit."
Great Spirit sees Thunderbird coming and breathes frost upon the morning,
He knows now to wake Winter from her sleep far in the North,
And he gives the spirit of the pumpkin the power of visions in thanks,
Thunderbird rolls the Great Pumpkin upon the ground,
It is the last thunder of Summer you are hearing,
There Great Pumpkin awaits a worthy person in some lonely pumpkin patch,
Waiting to gift the people with winter visions."
"One year he gave them to a little white boy selling blankets,
For Great Pumpkin liked his toy piano songs,
Now all white men know of Great Pumpkin yet few believe,
Thinking Autumn thunder is nothing but the wind,
They do not know the value of visions in the coming Winter,
Angry at the snow spirits who help the rabbits and squirrels and bears to rest,
Because they do not believe Great Pumpkin exists,
They go blind if the sun meets the snow."
The fellow became silent then,
I heard a great rumbling off in the distance,
It shook the briars and the brambles,
The thistle seed rattled loose all around,
Milkweed pods burst open and cotton-filled the chilly air,
Flocks of Canada geese flew up and started racing South,
The blackbirds swarmed up and circled the pumpkin patch,
Flakes of snow sputtered down and whirled about,
I knew the Great Pumpkin had found a patch.
I thought to myself of taking up trading blankets and playing piano.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/06/2005
Since that first Halloween in the Midwest,
It's been a legend of the Pumpkin Patch,
How the Great Pumpkin catches a ride.
I saw a fellow in buckskins walking the prairie trail,
Tracking his moccasins through October's morning dew,
Walking past tall golden fields of maize in the sunrise breeze,
As a hawk circled high above he stated his tale.
"Thunderbird leaves the great water of the West,
Rising high and breathing out clouds of dark breath,
Rains fall from his drying feathers,
Lightning flashes from his eyes and after the harvest he rests,
But he has on his last flight left a special task to do,"
"Thunderbird searches all the prairies and fields,
Searching for the largest pumpkin of perfect orange,
Searches in the tall waving grasses with his keen eyes,
Searches under the trees with lightning light,
He finds the world's biggest pumpkin each year,
He takes the pumpkin in his talons to the Great Spirit."
Great Spirit sees Thunderbird coming and breathes frost upon the morning,
He knows now to wake Winter from her sleep far in the North,
And he gives the spirit of the pumpkin the power of visions in thanks,
Thunderbird rolls the Great Pumpkin upon the ground,
It is the last thunder of Summer you are hearing,
There Great Pumpkin awaits a worthy person in some lonely pumpkin patch,
Waiting to gift the people with winter visions."
"One year he gave them to a little white boy selling blankets,
For Great Pumpkin liked his toy piano songs,
Now all white men know of Great Pumpkin yet few believe,
Thinking Autumn thunder is nothing but the wind,
They do not know the value of visions in the coming Winter,
Angry at the snow spirits who help the rabbits and squirrels and bears to rest,
Because they do not believe Great Pumpkin exists,
They go blind if the sun meets the snow."
The fellow became silent then,
I heard a great rumbling off in the distance,
It shook the briars and the brambles,
The thistle seed rattled loose all around,
Milkweed pods burst open and cotton-filled the chilly air,
Flocks of Canada geese flew up and started racing South,
The blackbirds swarmed up and circled the pumpkin patch,
Flakes of snow sputtered down and whirled about,
I knew the Great Pumpkin had found a patch.
I thought to myself of taking up trading blankets and playing piano.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/06/2005