The good ones-Yes, the good ones, too and all the lovely bad ones. The sober and the silent ones the boisterous and glad ones To all the little children:-the happy ones and sad ones When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock! I'd want to 'commodate 'em-all the whole-indurin' flock. I don't know how to tell it-but ef sich a thing could beĪs the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me. With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps Īnd your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps When the frost is on the punkin, and the fodder's in the shock! O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock, The hosses in theyr stalls below-the clover overhead!. The strawsack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed The stubble in the furries-kindo' lonesome-like, but stillĪ-preachin' sermons to us of the barns they growed to fill

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,Īnd the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock. Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,Īnd the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees īut the air's so appetizin' and the landscape through the haze When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,Īs he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes to feed the stock, O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,Īnd you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,Īnd the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,Īnd the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence We recommend this YouTube video of Kent Risley reciting this poem. On Any Ordinery Man in a High State of Laughtur and Delight

Purchase AO's Volume 2 poetry collection, which includes de la Mare, Field, Riley, and Rossetti in paperback or Kindle ( $amzn) ( K)ġ2. AmblesideOnline has a resource page about dialect poetry to help with poetry using regional dialect. We compiled a brief biography of Riley for you. Home > By Subject > Poetry > Poems of James Whitcomb Riley, 1849-1916 Poems of James Whitcomb Riley, 1849-1916

Aliens Ate My Trousers by Hunt Emerson