Thursday, September 26, 2013

One of two favorite fall poems....When The Frost is on the Pumpkin

Hoping this works....I am copying from two former posts of mine....

I heard this read a few years ago on TV...then got the idea to look for it on YouTube and found the above.  The words are below till you can follow along if you want.  The words are correct.  I have checked them against books of poems by James Whitcomb Riley.    

WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN  by: James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)
      HEN 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's 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 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--
      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 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 over-head!--
      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 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 don't know how to tell it--but ef sich 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.


Small City Scenes said...

Doesn't that just say it all. Everything is true. Thanks for finding that. MB

DeniseinVA said...

Thanks for sharing this lovely poem and your photos are wonderful!

Sandra said...

I have never read the whole poem before, did not even know it was that long, i have just heard the first part. love the photos today and this was written for an early riser, which i am, and i would love to live where i could get up and go out and do all this

Carletta said...

I know you've posted this before Rose and every time since when I see pumpkins I can't help but think of it. One of these days I'd really like to get a photo of frost on a pumpkin. :)

Montanagirl said...

Wonderful poem and presentation!

don said...

You've created a seasonal post that is excellent. I like the piece and the pictures to go along with it.

Dee said...

Fall is just pouring out of your post...the poem has been a favorite of mine...I have not read it in many years. Thank you for sharing.

Ginny said...

I have never heard the whole thing before, and I have never been able to understand it!! BUT I love your pictures, they speak more words then the poem.

Anonymous said...


Quiltedtime said...

Enjoying the spelling on some of the words...