When The Frost Is On The Punkin Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABCDDAA EEFFGGAA HHIIJJAA KKEELLAA| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock | A |
| And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey cock | A |
| And the clackin' of the guineys and the cluckin' of the hens | B |
| And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence | C |
| O it's then's the times a feller is a feelin' at his best | D |
| With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest | D |
| As he leaves the house bareheaded and goes out to feed the stock | A |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock | A |
| - | |
| They's something kindo' harty like about the atmusfere | E |
| When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here | E |
| Of course we miss the flowers and the blossums on the trees | F |
| And the mumble of the hummin' birds and buzzin' of the bees | F |
| But the air's so appetizin' and the landscape through the haze | G |
| Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days | G |
| Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock | A |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock | A |
| - | |
| The husky rusty russel of the tossels of the corn | H |
| And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn | H |
| The stubble in the furries kindo' lonesome like but still | I |
| A preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill | I |
| The strawstack in the medder and the reaper in the shed | J |
| The hosses in theyr stalls below the clover over head | J |
| O it sets my hart a clickin' like the tickin' of a clock | A |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock | A |
| - | |
| Then your apples all is gethered and the ones a feller keeps | K |
| Is poured around the celler floor in red and yeller heaps | K |
| And your cider makin' 's over and your wimmern folks is through | E |
| With their mince and apple butter and theyr souse and saussage too | E |
| I don't know how to tell it but ef sich a thing could be | L |
| As the Angels wantin' boardin' and they'd call around on me | L |
| I'd want to 'commodate 'em all the whole indurin' flock | A |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock | A |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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