When the frost is on the punkin’ cacti, okay, I didn’t have any punkins, fodder or kyouck to work with.
When the Frost is on the Punkin
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
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’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….
Go with what comes along † en theos ††jim
Shades of Gray - Denison TX 