What a wonderful poem. It reminds me of my high school English - TopicsExpress



          

What a wonderful poem. It reminds me of my high school English class, and all the reciting we did. Read it out loud, and enjoy! When the Frost is on the Punkin BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY When the frost is on the punkin and the fodders 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 roosters hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; O, its thens the times 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 fodders in the shock. Theys something kindo harty-like about the atmusfere When the heat of summers over and the coolin fall is here— Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees, And the mumble of the hummin-birds and buzzin of the bees; But the airs 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 fodders 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 over-head!— O, it sets my hart a-clickin like the tickin of a clock, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodders in the shock! Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps; And your cider-makin s over, and your wimmern-folks is through With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! ... I dont know how to tell it—but ef sich a thing could be As the Angels wantin boardin, and theyd call around on me— Id want to commodate em—all the whole-indurin flock— When the frost is on the punkin and the fodders in the shock!
Posted on: Fri, 29 Nov 2013 15:14:21 +0000

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