As the brown and frail leaves crinkle underneath my feet
I hear the soft autumn breeze blowing to a beautiful beat
The crunch of a crisp apple or the aroma of a freshly baked pie
These senses are functioned when the autumn breeze comes down from the sky
When I pick pumpkins from a fully loaded patch
I really do hope my brother does not find an identical match
To my special pumpkin that will look oh so unique
Like a designer dress sitting in a quaint boutique
The whisper of the autumn breeze haunts my innocent soul
Like the interminable curiosity of a deep dark hole
On Halloween night the autumn breeze interrupts my thoughts
Of candy, witches, and brewing pots
As I shiver with anticipation when I'm all alone
All I do is tell myself that I'm in the Twilight zone
Yes, I will always remember the sound of it blowing through the gate
Of the house that I died in, in 1798