IMAGES OF SMALL THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #677 – & The frost is on the punkin errrr cacti!

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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

Photos on the journey #404

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Trees

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

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer
I remember this poem from early in my elementary school days, I had always wrongfully assumed with the name “Joyce”, that the poem was pined by a woman.  In surfing for the poem, author and such, I found that Joyce Kilmer was very much a man, a true man’s man. Check out his biography and never judge a man totally by his words. Sometimes the bravest of us carries the gentlest words, and vice versa……….en theos†††jim