A wish for you all on Thanksgiving eve. "When the Frost is on the Punkin"

The following poem is a bit of a tradition in my family and i would like to share it with my fellow DU'rs.



"When the Frost is on the Punkin"

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—
Of 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. 1853–1916

I wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving. If you are traveling to be with family, i wish you a safe and uneventful journey.

"And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea"

weather's hot and sticky, that's no time to...' I bet there are a thousand DUers who could finish this.

I thought I was going to read when I clicked on this post. LOL.

So much for our collective knowlege of poetry.

for posting the poem. My mother used to say "the frost is on the punkin" and I never knew where she got it, had no idea it was poem.

and then she'd shake her head and say "or something like that." It was many years later I discovered Riley's poem. I thought it terribly corny when I first read it, but these days it doesn't seem so corny, somehow.

I believe it was Riley who wrote "The Passing of the Outhouse" -- my grandfather could quote nearly all of this one.

I just got through bedding down 7 horses, 2 cats, 5 dogs and 2 goats in a driving sleet. I understand this in a very personal way. The angels would love it here with a fire going and the kids home with all their friends and the stove cooking good food. A cinnamon smell around the house. It truly can be heaven on earth.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and thank you for the poem. I had never heard it before but I have now copied it. It is wonderful.

I am really glad you liked it. It has always put a lump in my throat.

May your family, livestock included, have a great Thanksgiving.

now it`s time for dickie dunkin! Hope this doesn`t get me banned, but that`s the way I heard the poem from my sweet momma`s smiling face.

Been cooking all day and seeing this poem has gotten me really looking forward to tomorrow.

I do so love the autumn time! Lots of good sleeping weather at night, and a lot of beauty to look at by day! There's kind of an energy out there. :)

weekend to you and yours!

:hi: