Some days I sit and stare at pumpkins,
And dream of going to the ball—
I long to dance with a handsome prince
With dresses flowing tuned with love;
I dream of looking in his face
My own aglow with smiles of bliss…
And on those days I stare and dream
My pumpkin blooms with bursts of fire,
Transforming to a magic carriage
To chase my gloom away forever,
And bear me to my prince’s ball,
To marble rooms and gilded halls…
I want my problems left behind
As I am carried by my pumpkin;
I hear the trumpets celebrate
As I am married to the prince!
And life is happy ever after—
A splendid fairy tale come true…
But maybe God did not make pumpkins
To be transformed to carriages;
And maybe joy is more a choice
That shines through storms as well as good times;
And maybe it’s through every trial
That strength is born, and love refined…
Instead of staring at my pumpkins
I choose to wake my joy today;
I will not dream of fancy balls,
But I will take my little pumpkin
And go and bake a pumpkin pie!
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