Pumpkin Secrets

All the pumpkins in the garden

Have secrets they won’t tell,
Though the crispness of autumn’s kiss
Breaks through summer’s sweet spell.
 
The sunshine warms less thoroughly
And leaves turn brown, then pale.
Yet still they hold their secrets close,
Faithful and without fail.
 
What is the secret that they keep,
Despite the coming cold,
That lets them face, with cheerful grace,
The fact they’re growing old?
 
I wish I knew the secret to
A faith that strong and true,
But until I figure it out
I’ll just hold on to You.
 
Or is that their secret, too?