When The Frost Is On The Punkin
~James Whitcomb Riley
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here
—course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin';and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!
—O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With theyr mince and apple-butter,and theyr souse and sausage too!
...I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me
—I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock
—When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
~James Whitcomb Riley
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here
—course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin';and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!
—O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With theyr mince and apple-butter,and theyr souse and sausage too!
...I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me
—I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock
—When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Loves Autumn
Photo courtesy of the Internet
Holly aka She Who Loves Autumn
Photo courtesy of the Internet
15 comments:
Smiling! a big 'un! perfect for a monday morn. xoxo
Ah yes... frost on the punkin'. You always seem to know what we need - and generously supply it. Thank you for that, dear Holly.
On Wednesday, in New York, it was snow on the punkin's, and I stopped to take pictures. Will post soon.
There was a lot of frost on the punkin' this morning...brrrr!
Sunny :)
Oh Holly I just loved that - It made me smile!! I'm so tired this morning that was a feat!! Wonderful..delightful..delicious - whoo hoo..I think I might even be a little awake now..well it seems my smile is anyway..whoot!!
Happy monday hon!! Love, Sarah
Perfect for this morning - the frost was definitely on the punkin' at our house - it was a brisk 26 degrees F.
Have a great day.
Lynn
You brighten up my day! Loved the poem!
I'm telling you it's spooky how we think some days. My Facebook status update and your blog post. :)
Love this post! It's going to be 95 degrees here today, but your poem got me in the mood for my favorite season too!
love it! was with my mom out at my bros'/Ciera's house this weekend, watching our favorite 'autumn' movies ... including one I ABSOLUTELY WANT YOU TO SEE called Sweet Land ... oh. my. Maybe the most perfect movie ever made ...
go! go check it out!!! Order it from Netflix if you belong!
I like autumn too but I'm glad it's spring here! Not that you'd know it - rain, rain, rain, followed by more rain! And further south they are still getting frosts and even some snow. Roll on summer I say - definitely MY favourite season!
That made my day Holly! I just came in from working in the garden, in the blazing sun, grumbling about how much I missed fall. That was perfect. Thanks a million.
Love ya,
xo
Oh, we have the frost on the punkin and the white on the ground!! Can I tell you have a wee bit of the blarney going there? Great ode to autumn!
I love this! I'm smilin...I'm smilin'... Thank you!
Holly I love you... but you lost me!...
must be coz I'm from down under :)
x Ribbon
I haven't read a good poem in a long time. It's like a deep breath of good air. Thanks Holly.
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