“The top’s too heavy, too much space below,”
my neighbor says. “’Spect she’ll start sagging soon.”
He’d lugged the massive thing out front for me.
I realize with horror that he’s right.
I’d carved my share of pumpkins through the years,
protected them from predatory squirrels,
from Mischief Night marauders: hubris had
at last undone me. A slightly wider grin,
an extra tooth or two—I should have known
the plan was flawed, the architecture tenuous.
Before too long the carriage will collapse,
sides slump, rind pit and wrinkle, pulp dissolve
and putrify. The oblique eyes, the arching brows,
isosceles nose are doomed to droop and molder.
Look on those overweening teeth, ye mighty,
and descry their graying edges fold and sear,
like the striate skin of a stitched cadaver.
Now soon a press of princesses, pop stars,
pirates, pixies, vampires, ninjas, sprites,
enchanters, supermen, and bumblebees
will throng the street, importunate to take
their turn, while my poor jack-o-lantern, claimed
by gravity, sits rotting at the door
before I’ve even got the candle lit.
O.K., I've been asked to explain the blog name. Of course you know that the word "doodle" usually refers to random jottings made while otherwise occupied—on the phone, attending meetings, watching television, or just daydreaming. Doodles are very rough sketches of people, patterns, animals, objects, etc. My plan for this blog is to expand the definition of doodling to include play writing, prose (fiction and non), and anything else (woodworking? ironing shirts?), that invades my brain pan. A little of this, a little of that—the whole blog becoming one big hybrid doodle. As for the "meister" part, that's just pure vanity.
Doodlemeister's Weblog 
Enjoyed this delightful poem. I’ve heard tell of such Pumpkins.
Great poem, Flo! I love your use of horror (a very Halloween oriented word)! I could just picture your pumpkin, before you even got the candle in it!
“Love this poem. Well done Florence.
But the poem triumphs over time and gravity!