Episode 76

The air grows crisp, a whisper of autumn’s chill, And shadows lengthen on the windowsill. A different magic starts to fill the breeze, Rustling through the amber-colored trees. The world prepares for something new and grand, A season painted by a playful hand.

The pumpkins swell, like giants on the vine, Round and orange, wonderfully divine. They wait in fields, beneath the fading sun, For hands to choose them, when the day is done. Their sturdy stems, a promise they all keep, Of secrets hidden, buried down so deep.

Then comes the night, when moonbeams softly gleam, And children’s faces light up like a dream. With costumes donned, and bags held open wide, A thrill of mischief dances deep inside. The streets transform, a canvas dark and vast, Where playful spirits are forever cast.