Mid-autumn, under the blanket of night,

Unsuspecting pumpkins rest in a patch.

But one pumpkin runs by, screaming in fright—

and before he knows it, he meets his match.

The Fair Titania, queen of the fairy

Marks his head to ornament her garden

Fills poor Bottom to the top with worry

Of becoming one of her hunted men.

then her dagger glares near and pulp spills ‘ere

What a truly fearful sight to have known.

The night grows darker and stars disappear…

Thud!— waking up with a chill in the bone.

he tumbles onto the floor stiff and cold.

Through the looking glass: a sphere, orange-gold.