First Frost- sure to be followed soon by-

Well I am certainly not using the “S” word. Something about calling the devil when you name it lol.

Though the frost this morning put me in mind of this old poem. What is your favorite fall poem?

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!

50 Responses

  1. I’ll be back after church- but here is a Robert Frost poem- “After Apple Picking”
    http://www.bartleby.com/118/10.html

  2. be patient.in just a few months we will be complaining about how hot it is.

    😆.

  3. We had our first trace of snow Oct 1 and another little hit Monday night. Brrrrrrrrr. Oh and you can rap the poem if you’re so inclined– nothing like full rhymed couplets to make you cool with the baggy pants crowd.

  4. I’m not a fan of FROST. He’s so………..COLD.

    …ducking and running.

  5. I recall my favorite English teacher, when we were discussing Mending Wall in class.
    Recall that we were speaking of Pine Trees and neighboring Apple Trees.

    He asked, Why did the neighbor put the fence up?

    To which I responded aloud……….so there wouldn’t be pineapples?

    He told me I could have a free lunch period for the rest of the class. So I picked my chit up and left while he laughed his ass off.

    Later, he became, believe it or not, my Master Teacher during my student teaching year.

  6. I’ve always like Crane. The Black Riders, particularly. As much of an iconoclast as William Blake.

    “Think as I think,” said a man,
    “Or you are abominably wicked;
    You are a toad.”

    And after I had thought of it,
    I said, “I will, then, be a toad.”

    Nice, civilied way to say “blow it out your shorts.”

  7. Lovely post, PMM. During his lifetime, James Whitcomb Riley was known as “The Hoosier Poet” and he remains one of Indiana’s favorite sons. His writings aren’t very well known these days. A pity.

    An archive of recordings by Riley, reading his own works:

    http://digitallibrary.imcpl.org/riley.php

  8. My favorite fall poem:

  9. Oh, and Frost taught at my college (not while I was there–too bad-I’m jealous). There is a Robert Frost House on campus–where he lived while teaching at Plymouth.

  10. Keats. Ode on a Grecian Urn is sooo hot. La Belle Dame Sans Merci. What’s not to love.

    I just think the Romantics, keats,byron, shelley brought poetry to the highest art form.

    I’m a yeats fan too.

  11. Oh Lord! Can you imagine Joe Biden running for president??? Is this guy for REAL?
    http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/10/23/joe-biden-2016-presidential-run_n_1027110.html

  12. I saw that about Biden considering a 2016 run yesterday. That confirmed to me that he’s not only a drunk, but also on some very heavy medications. Either that or he’s completely psychotic. Hell I’d believe any or all of the above.

  13. William Butler Yeats:

  14. churl- where are you that it has snowed already? Did Utah mention she had gotten snow already too?
    So much poetry- so little time. Love the selections today!

    And PFFFTTTT on Biden running for President. Some days I get the distinct feeling it is all decided years and years ahead of time.

  15. Libya is going Sharia for their new law- nullifying anything that does not comply. I hope every woman leaves that country tonight.

    The transitional government leader Mustafa Abdul-Jalil set out a vision for the post-Gadhafi future with an Islamist tint, saying that Islamic Sharia law would be the “basic source” of legislation in the country and that existing laws that contradict the teachings of Islam would be nullified.

    http://news.yahoo.com/libyas-transitional-leader-declares-liberation-155513082.html

  16. Gosh. Something worse. Shades of Iran, complete with psychotic clerics in charge. Quelle surprise!

    Next, they will be strapping bombs on themselves during USA visits.

  17. Gee those Indian girls got to live to change their names. Usually, they are put in a room with a cobra as babies.

  18. Oh, This is nice….


    “Hamid Karzai: Afghanistan Would Back Pakistan In U.S. War”

    Hamid Karzai: Afghanistan Would Back Pakistan In U.S. War

  19. No surprise there Anthony, Karzai is the Taliban’s bitch. The only one who pretends he doesn’t know it is him.

  20. I think that I shall never see
    A poem as lovely as a tree

    Okay. I’ll say it: It’s a good thing that you guys are here to supply the poems, because I’m not up to the job! lol

  21. pineapples!

    ROFL you were sharp and quick at an early age!

  22. Frost? We’re lucky to see it sometime in February if the weather’s stars are aligned. On the other hand, it’s supposed to drop to the lovely 80s next week. I can live with that… 97 today, and the trip to the pumpkin patch for Lil Guy got uncomfortable there at the end… and it was only 11:00am.:/

  23. Frost? What’s that?

    Oh, cooler weather. I understand. I only have ONE fan on today 🙂

  24. OMG I just saw a commercial – Gloria Allred is going to have one of those daytime judge shows.

  25. Lorac and Allie- that is not nice! We have cool weather now- and the ‘s” word will be kicking in soon. No garden til next year! Though I did get most of the lawn done today and the (ahem) brand new raised bed covered. With garden cloth and some old storm windows. So I will be rocking spinach, lettuce and peas first thing next spring!

  26. Alas, I won’t be planting a thing till mid May. But at least I have a boatload of frozen marinara sauce to remember this growing season by.

  27. Uppity- I thought you had raised beds? You can cover them now and be growing cold season veggies in April! (barring Noah making a return again next year.)

  28. Not here, Mom. Trust me. Nothing grows before May. It’s just too unstable in april.

  29. I want to move to Italy and grow figs.

  30. And olives. Lots of olives.

  31. lol- we get very crazy weather here in April as well- but with the old storms I can use the raised bed as a cold frame type set up. Get spinach, lettuce and peas in and out before tomato growing season. Might turn out to be an exercise in futility- but worth a try- it will only cost me a few packets of seeds.
    The best laid plans……

  32. you are too funny- figs and olives lol. And tomatoes!
    I am thinking of putting in some blueberries along the side of the yard- there are some pine trees over there along the property line and a gigantic rhododendron- so I know the soil is acidic enough. Might have to add a ton of peat moss to break up the clay though. Blueberries like a lighter, airier soil. They grow wild all over New England – the sandy soil and pine trees are perfect for them.

  33. Uppity Under the Tuscan Sun:

  34. If I lived in the right climate and could grow things all year around, I would be practicallly self sufficient. That’s how much I love to grow things.

    Yes I can grow lettuce in the colder times. Lettuce loves cold.

  35. Yup PMM we have already had a good snow. More this week. Tell you all I love fall and having four seasons, but I could live my entire life without snow. But guess then it would not be four seasons. Ah well I have to say the color here is beautiful. I am going out tomorrow to photograph some of the beautiful fall color.
    For me poetry does nothing. Never really liked it much.

  36. Aw please, imust. You’re killing me.

    I had this strong thought of retiring to Tuscany. Scrap that one. lol.

  37. Hahah on the hot water in the toilet bowl.

  38. Seriously Mom. Throw me on an island with some good cheese, fruit, olives and crusty bread and wine and just Go. Away.

    Speaking of Noah……….Where did he keep the woodpeckers and termites on the ark?

  39. Seriously Mom. Throw me on an island with some good cheese, fruit, olives and crusty bread and wine and just Go. Away.

    what? No PIE?

  40. Hey Mom – that cretin in Libya even goes further – Barack must be SO PROUD of his pals…..

    “Mr Abdul-Jalil went further, specifically lifting immediately, by decree, one law from Col. Gaddafi’s era that he said was in conflict with Sharia – that banning polygamy. “

  41. First frost? You mean frosted Flakes, right? hahahahaha

  42. Uppity, I have a fig tree here in CT. I have to bring it into the garage over the winter and it doesn’t bear much fruit, but still, it’s a fig tree. Likely the fruit that’s on it won’t ripen before the frost, but last year it did.

  43. I eat my Peas with Honey
    I’ve done it all my life
    it makes my peas taste funny
    bit it keeps them on my knife

    It’s my favorite poem only because my grandpa used to recite it to us at least once or twice a summer when we were kids. He was such a sweet Gentleman. My grandmother told me once that one of the reasons she fell in love with him was that when he would come to pick her up for a date he would take the other girls, those who did not have dates that evening, along (from the teachers bordering house where she lived) and treat them too.
    Besides my favorite poet, Dr Suess, didn’t write anything about autumn. = )

  44. We’re still running the ac. I don’t know what fall looks like.

  45. A day late, but worth a million:

    “The Day is Done”
    Longfellow

    The day is done, and the darkness
    Falls from the wings of Night,
    As a feather is wafted downward
    From an eagle in his flight.

    I see the lights of the village
    Gleam through the rain and the mist,
    And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
    That my soul cannot resist:

    A feeling of sadness and longing,
    That is not akin to pain,
    And resembles sorrow only
    As the mist resembles the rain.

    Come, read to me some poem,
    Some simple and heartfelt lay,
    That shall soothe this restless feeling,
    And banish the thoughts of day.

    Not from the grand old masters,
    Not from the bards sublime,
    Whose distant footsteps echo
    Through the corridors of Time.

    For, like strains of martial music,
    Their mighty thoughts suggest
    Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
    And to-night I long for rest.

    Read from some humbler poet,
    Whose songs gushed from his heart,
    As showers from the clouds of summer,
    Or tears from the eyelids start;

    Who, through long days of labor,
    And nights devoid of ease,
    Still heard in his soul the music
    Of wonderful melodies.

    Such songs have power to quiet
    The restless pulse of care,
    And come like the benediction
    That follows after prayer.

    Then read from the treasured volume
    The poem of thy choice,
    And lend to the rhyme of the poet
    The beauty of thy voice.

    And the night shall be filled with music
    And the cares, that infest the day,
    Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
    And as silently steal away.

  46. Anthony! Beautiful! Thank you SOOOO much! You found a poem that says exactly how I feel!

  47. You’re welcome, PMM

    My favorite stanzas:

    “Read from some humbler poet,
    Whose songs gushed from his heart,
    As showers from the clouds of summer,
    Or tears from the eyelids start;

    Who, through long days of labor,
    And nights devoid of ease,
    Still heard in his soul the music
    Of wonderful melodies.”

    I chose to read this at a friend’s memorial service. He was a passionate and fearless artist and activist who did a lot of advocacy for the disenfranchised The room went silent afterward, and then came the cheers for his courage and passion.

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