A Full Harvest
Seems like a feller'd ort 'o jes' to-day
Git down and roll and waller, don't you know,
In that-air stubble, and flop up and crow,
Seein' sich craps! I'll undertake to say
There're no wheat's ever turned out thataway
Afore this season!--Folks is keerless tho',
And too fergitful--'caze we'd ort 'o show
More thankfulness!--Jes' looky hyonder, hey?--
And watch that little reaper wadin' thue
That last old yaller hunk o' harvest-ground--
Jes' natchur'ly a-slicin' it in-two
Like honey-comb, and gaumin' it around
The field--like it had nothin' else to do
On'y jes' waste it all on me and you!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
My Sweet Hunk Otrash
James p. johnson / flournoy e. miller
You dont act up too much
Aint got that glamour touch
Youre trifling lazy
Aint worth a cigarette ash
Look out here mamma
Look out here
You carry me too fast
Youre just my good for nothin
My sweet hunk o trash
My, my how you sound
Youre very short on looks
Dumb, when it comes to books
Look out, baby
Watch it, honey
And you stay full of corn
Just like a succotash
What you want me to do in my idle moments
Youre just a good-for-nothin
But my sweet hunk o trash
Let me get a word in there honey, you running your mouth
You said Ive worried you for years
Im just a barfly moochin beers
While you sweat over a hot stove slinging hash
Work my fingers right down to the elbows
Yes I may be good-for-nothin
But Im still your sweet hunk o trash
First to admit it baby
You said I spread my love all around
And with the chicks all over town
But, how can I when you keep me broke
So I cant spend no cash
Yes I may be good-for-nothin
But Im still your sweet hunk o trash
Listen hear pops,
You know you lie about your youth
I dont lie baby
Im just careless with the truth, thats all
How careless can you be
Oh, no
With all your chicks
You try to make a flash
Now baby
It aint like that, no
But youre still my good-for-nothin
My sweet hunk o trash
Now when you stay out very late
It sure makes me mad to wait how come, baby?
Cus, you come home too tired
To raise just one eyelash
Watch it baby
Watch it
Youre just good-for-nothin
But youre my sweet hunk o trash
Yes indeed!
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Who Santy-Claus Wuz
Jes' a little bit o' feller--I remember still--
Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will.
Fourth o' July's nothin' to it!--New Year's ain't a smell!
Easter-Sunday--Circus-day--jes' all dead in the shell!
Lawzy, though! at night, you know, to set around an' hear
The old folks work the story off about the sledge an' deer,
An' 'Santy' skootin' round the roof, all wrapt in fur an' fuzz--
Long afore
I knowed who
'Santy-Claus' wuz!
Ust to wait, an' set up late, a week er two ahead;
Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to bed;
Kittle stewin' on the fire, an' Mother settin' here
Darnin' socks, an' rockin' in the skreeky rockin'-cheer;
Pap gap', an' wonder where it wuz the money went,
An' quar'l with his frosted heels, an' spill his liniment;
An' me a-dreamin' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud whir an' buzz,
Long afore
I knowed who
'Santy-Claus' wuz!
Size the fire-place up an' figger how 'Ole Santy' could
Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he would;
Wisht 'at I could hide an' see him--wunderd what he'd say
Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway!
But I _bet_ on him, an' _liked_ him, same as ef he had
Turned to pat me on the back an' say, 'Look here, my lad,
Here's my pack,--jes' he'p yourse'f, like all good boys does!'
Long afore
I knowed who
'Santy-Claus' wuz!
Wisht that yarn was true about him, as it 'peared to be--
Truth made out o' lies like that-un's good enough fer me!--
Wisht I still wuz so confidin' I could jes' go wild
Over hangin' up my stockin's, like the little child
Climbin' in my lap to-night, an' beggin' me to tell
'Bout them reindeers, and 'Old Santy' that she loves so well
I'm half sorry fer this little-girl-sweetheart of his--
Long afore
She knows who
'Santy-Claus' is!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Marthy Ellen
They's nothin' in the name to strike
A feller more'n common like!
'Taint liable to git no praise
Ner nothin' like it nowadays;
An' yit that name o' her'n is jest
As purty as the purtiest--
And more 'n that, I'm here to say
I'll live a-thinkin' thataway
And die far Marthy Ellen!
It may be I was prejudust
In favor of it from the fust--
'Cause I kin ricollect jest how
We met, and hear her mother now
A-callin' of her down the road--
And, aggervatin' little toad!--
I see her now, jes' sort o' half-
Way disapp'inted, turn and laugh
And mock her--'Marthy Ellen!'
Our people never had no fuss,
And yit they never tuck to us;
We neighbered back and foreds some;
Until they see she liked to come
To our house--and me and her
Were jest together ever'whur
And all the time--and when they'd see
That I liked her and she liked me,
They'd holler 'Marthy Ellen!'
When we growed up, and they shet down
On me and her a-runnin' roun'
Together, and her father said
He'd never leave her nary red,
So he'p him, ef she married me,
And so on--and her mother she
Jest agged the gyrl, and said she 'lowed
She'd ruther see her in her shroud,
I _writ_ to Marthy Ellen--
That is, I kindo' tuck my pen
In hand, and stated whur and when
The undersigned would be that night,
With two good hosses saddled right
Far lively travelin' in case
Her folks 'ud like to jine the race.
She sent the same note back, and writ
'The rose is red!' right under it--
'Your 'n allus, Marthy Ellen.'
That's all, I reckon--Nothin' more
To tell but what you've heerd afore--
The same old story, sweeter though
Far all the trouble, don't you know.
Old-fashioned name! and yit it's jest
As purty as the purtiest;
And more 'n that, I'm here to say
I'll live a-thinking thataway,
And die far Marthy Ellen!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cabinessence
Light the lamp and fire mellow,
Cabin essence timely hello,
Welcomes the time for a change.
Lost and found, you still remain there.
Youll find a meadow filled with grain there.
Ill give you a home on the range.
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
I want to watch you windblown facing
Waves of wheat for your embracing.
Folks sing a song of the grange.
Nestle in a kiss below there.
The constellations ebb and flow there.
And witness our home on the range.
Who ran the iron horse?
(truck driving man do what you can)
Who ran the iron horse?
(high-tail your load off the road)
Who ran the iron horse?
(out of night-life-its a gas man)
Who ran the iron horse?
(I dont believe I gotta grieve)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in and out of luck)
Who ran the iron horse?
(with a buck and a booth)
Who ran the iron horse?
(catchin on to the truth)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in the vast past, the last gasp)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in the land, in the dust, trust that you must)
Who ran the iron horse?
(catch as catch can)
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On Fields O'er Which the Reaper's Hand Has Pass'd
On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Jessica, Gone Back To The City
Sence fair Jessica hez left us
Seems ez ef she hed bereft us,
When she went, o’ half o’ livin’;
Fer we never knowed she’d driven
Into us so much content,
Till fair Jessica hed went.
(Knowed a feller once thet cried
When his yaller dog hed died.)
We hain’t near ez bright an’ chirky,
An’ the sun shines blue an’ murky,
Kind o’ sadly an’ dishearted,
Like ets sperret bed departed;
Just ez ef ets joy bed ceased
Sence fair Jessica ’s gone East.
(Not but what ets always sober
Sort o’ weather in October.)
Then the posies, too, seems human,
An’ hez all quit o’ their bloomin’;
An’ the trees they show a pallor
An’ hey turned a heart-sick yaller,
Sayin’, 'No use livin’ on
Ef fair Jessica hez gone.'
(Folks thet knows sez this ez all
Very common in the fall.)
Truth ez, I’m a-feelin’ sadly;
Things ez goin’ kind o’ badly
Round my heart an’ other vitals
(Brings on poetry recitals
O’ my woes ‘most ev’ry day)
Sence fair Jessica’s away.
(Kind o’ think thet I will haf ter
Smoke a leetle less hereafter.)
But, with fun aside, you know,
We’re blamed sorry she must go;
An’ we hope she’ll think, maybe,
‘Z well o’ us ez we o’ she.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hooky Jo
Hooky high hooky jo
I need you so
Hooky bye hooky go
Where I dont know
Looky high looky low
Where can you be
Hooky high hooky jo
I need your company
And my sergeant said
The war is over son
It doesnt really matter
That the north has won.
So I packed my bags
And I gave back my gun
I turned and headed home
With the fighting done
Hooky high hooky jo
I need you so
Hooky by hooky go
Where I dont know
Looky high looky low
Where can you be
Hooky high hooky jo
I need your company
Hooky jo and me
We planned to make a start
But the war came between us
And we fell apart
Now this old gray coat is getting mighty thin
But Ill keep on looking for her
Till we meet again
Hooky high hooky jo
I need you so
Hooky by hooky go
Where I dont know
Looky high looky low
Where can you be
Hooky high hooky jo
I need your company
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wadin' In De Crick
DAYS git wa'm and wa'mah,
School gits mighty dull,
Seems lak dese hyeah teachahs
Mus' feel mussiful.
Hookey's wrong, I know it
Ain't no gent'man's trick;
But de aih's a-callin',
'Come on to de crick.'
Dah de watah's gu'glin'
Ovah shiny stones,
Des hit's ve'y singin'
Seems to soothe yo' bones.
W'at's de use o' waitin',
Go on good an' quick:
Dain't no fun lak dis hyeah
Wadin' in de crick.
W'at dat jay-b'ud sayin'?
Bettah shet yo' haid,
Fus' t'ing dat you fin' out,
You'll be layin' daid.
Jay-bu'ds sich a tattlah,
Des seem lak his trick
Fu' to tell on folkses
Wadin' in de crick.
Willer boughs a-bendin',
Hidin' of de sky,
Wavin' kin' o' frien'ly
Ez de win' go by,
Elum trees a-shinin',
Dahk an' green an' thick,
Seem to say, 'I see yo'
Wadin' in de crick.'
But de trees don' chattah,
Dey des look an' sigh
Lak hit's kin' o' peaceful
Des a-bein' nigh,
An' yo' t'ank yo' Mastah
Dat dey trunks is thick
W'en yo' mammy fin's you
Wadin' in de crick.
Den yo' run behin' dem
Lak yo' scaihed to def,
Mammy come a-flyin',
Mos' nigh out o' bref;
But she set down gentle
An' she drap huh stick, —
An, fus' t'ing, dey's mammy
Wadin' in de crick.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Deacon Jones' Grievance
I'VE been watchin' of 'em parson,
An' I'm sorry fur to say
'At my mind is not contented
With the loose an' keerless way
'At the young folks treat the music;
'Tain't the proper sort o' choir.
Then I don't believe in Christuns
A-singin' hymns for hire.
But I never would 'a' murmured
An' the matter might 'a' gone
Ef it wasn't fur the antics
'At I've seen 'em kerry on;
So I thought it was my dooty
Fur to come to you an' ask
Ef you wouldn't sort o' gently
Take them singin' folks to task.
Fust, the music they're be'n singin'
Will disgrace us mighty soon;
It's a cross between a opry
An' a ol' cotillion tune.
With its dashes an' its quavers
An' its hifalutin style —
Why, it sets my head to swimmin'
When I'm comin' down the aisle.
Now it might be almost decent
Ef it wasn't fur the way
'At they git up there an' sing it,
Hey dum diddle, loud and gay.
Why, it shames the name o' sacred
In its brazen worldliness,
An' they're even got 'Ol' Hundred'
In a bold, new-fangled dress.
You'll excuse me, Mr. Parson,
Ef I seem a little sore;
But I've sung the songs of Isr'el
For threescore years an' more,
An ' it sort o' hurts my feelin's
Fur to see 'em put away
Fur these harum-scarum ditties
'At is capturin' the day.
There's anuther little happ'nin'
'At I'll mention while I'm here,
Jes' to show 'at my objections
All is offered sound and clear.
It was one day they was singin'
An' was doin' well enough —
Singin' good as people could sing
Sich an awful mess o' stuff —
When the choir give a holler,
An' the organ give a groan,
An' they left one weak-voiced feller
A-singin' there alone!
But he stuck right to the music,
Tho' 't was tryin' as could be;
An' when I tried to help him,
Why, the hull church scowled at me.
You say that's so-low singin',
Well, I pray the Lord that I
Growed up when folks was willin'
To sing their hymns so high.
Why, we never had sich doin's
In the good ol' Bethel days,
When the folks was all contented
With the simple songs of praise.
Now I may have spoke too open,
But 't was too hard to keep still,
An' I hope you'll tell the singers
'At I bear 'em no ill-will.
'At they all may git to glory
Is my wish an' my desire,
But they'll need some extry trainin'
'Fore they jine the heavenly choir.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Loop De Loop
(laughter)
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Have you ever been in airplane
When the flyin circus comes to town
Count your change
You can come and walk the wing with me
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop take away an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Peepin and a-hidin in and out of the cloud
The leader lost a hanky wavin down at the crowd
The barnstorm down but the rooster on the weather vane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop take away an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Huffin and a-puffin flyin high as she can
A patchwork quilt stretches over the land
Well toss and tumble and sail her right in to the sun
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop gotcha in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Ha ha
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Thankfulness Is A Virtue
Thankfulness is a virtue,
That we shouldn't live without.
It fills us with immense happiness,
That is apparent from the inside, out.
When you recognize a blessing,
Thankfulness is the key,
To let someone know
That it meant something special,
To thee.
Thankfulness is a characteristic,
That no one should lack,
When someone gives,
Or does something
For someone else,
The thing to do,
Is to say,
'Thank You',
And to do a kind thing back.
Thankfulness isn't hard,
It Just takes a momentary while-
And one bright, heartfelt smile,
To brighten someone's day,
As they go along their way.
Thankfulness brings the most simple,
Yet most fullfilling reward,
To one, and all.
Thankfullness should be natural,
So there really is no reason,
Why we can't all be thankful,
On this Thanksgiving season.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Honey Would You Stand By Me
(bob mcdill)
If I quit my job for the simple life
Honey would you stand by me
If I bought a little cabin on a mountainside
Honey would you stand by me
Would you be my one true friend
Stick with me through thick and thin
If the roof was old and the rain came in
Honey would you stand by me
If I tried my luck in hollywood
Honey would you stand by me
If my break never came like I thought it would
Honey would you stand by me
Would you be my heart of gold
And never complain when the money was low
If your coat was thin and your shoes were old
Honey would you stand by me
And if I joined up with the rodeo
Honey would you stand by me
If we traveled around from show to show
Honey would you stand by me
Would you be a cowboys dream
And smile right on when times got lean
If you didnt have nothin but boots and jeans
Honey would you stand by me
Honey would you stand
Honey would you stand by me
Honey would you stand
Honey would you stand by me
Honey would you stand
Honey would you stand by me
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Waiting On The Wheat Harvest
as you sow brothers sisters so you wheat harvest reap
as a grain of wheat dies germinates bears fruit to heap
Jesus will completely clean up threshing floor gather his wheat
chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire hell suffering heat
an enemy came in over sowed weeds in among seed wheat
reapers harvest collect weeds burn them saving only wheat
Satan demands sifts men as wheat to blow away in sifting wind
Son of man will send angels to gather chosen ones from ill wind
a grain of wheat falls into the ground dies then bears fruit new life
so hate soul temptation in this world safeguard soul for eternal life
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Parables of Jesus: The Kingdom of Heaven: The Wheat and the Darnel Gospel, Matthew 13: 24-30
Then Jesus told another parable:
‘Kingdom of Heaven- Wheat and the darnel'
Heaven can be compared to that of a man,
Who sowed only good seed in his whole field.
But just when everybody fell asleep,
His enemy had come and sown darnel,
Amongst the wheat and sped away quite fast.
And when the new wheat sprouted very well,
The darnel too appeared amidst the same;
His labourers all went to him and said,
‘Wasn't it good seed that you sowed in your field?
He told them, ‘Some enemy had done this! '
When they asked if they should pull the weeds out,
He told, ‘No, as the wheat would come with it! '
‘Let them both grow until the harvest-time;
And then I will instruct my reapers all,
‘Collect the darnel first; burn the bundles!
Gather the good wheat all into my barn! '
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bein' Back Home
HOME agin, an' home to stay —
Yes, it's nice to be away.
Plenty things to do an' see,
But the old place seems to me
Jest about the proper thing.
Mebbe 'ts 'cause the mem'ries cling
Closer 'round yore place o' birth
'N ary other spot on earth.
W'y it's nice jest settin' here,
Lookin' out an' seein' clear,
'Thout no smoke, ner dust, ner haze
In these sweet October days.
What's as good as that there lane,
Kind o' browned from last night's rain?
'Pears like home has got the start
When the goal's a feller's heart.
What's as good as that there jay
Screechin' up'ards towards the gray
Skies? An' tell me, what's as fine
As that full-leafed pumpkin vine?
Tow'rin' buildin's — yes, they're good;
But in sight o' field and wood,
Then a feller understan's
'Bout the house not made with han's
Let the others rant an' roam
When they git away from home;
Jest gi' me my old settee
An' my pipe beneath a tree;
Sight o' medders green an' still,
Now and then a gentle hill.
Apple orchards, full o' fruit,
Nigh a cider press to boot —
That's the thing jest done up brown;
D'want to be too nigh to town;
Want to have the smells an' sights,
An' the dreams o' long still nights,
With the friends you used to know
In the keerless long ago.—
Same old cronies, same old folks,
Same old cider, same old jokes.
Say, it's nice a-gittin' back,
When yore pulse is growin' slack,
An' yore breath begins to wheeze
Like a fair-set valley breeze;
Kind o' nice to set aroun'
On the old familiar groun',
Knowin' that when Death does come,
That he'll find you right at home.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Here Come De Honey Man
Peter
(entering)
Here come de honey man.
Yes man, dis de honey man.
You got honey in de comb?
Yes man, I got honey in de comb.
An is yo honey cheap?
Yes mam, my honey very cheap.
Here come de honey man.
All
Hello, peter.
Lily
Well, here come my ol man.
(takes tray from his head)
Now gimme the money! now go sit and rest.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Nothin' To Say
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me--
Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother--where is she?
You look lots like yer mother: Purty much same in size;
And about the same complected; and favor about the eyes:
Like her, too, about _livin_' here,--because _she_ couldn't stay:
It'll 'most seem like you was dead--like her!--But I hain't got nothin' to say!
She left you her little Bible--writ yer name acrost the page--
And left her ear bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age.
I've allus kep' 'em and gyuarded 'em, but ef yer goin' away--
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
You don't rikollect her, I reckon? No; you wasn't a year old then!
And now yer--how old _air_ you? W'y, child, not '_twenty_!' When?
And yer nex' birthday's in Aprile? and you want to git married that day?
... I wisht yer mother was livin'!--But--I hain't got nothin' to say!
Twenty year! and as good a gyrl as parent ever found!
There's a straw ketched onto yer dress there--I'll bresh it off--turn round.
(Her mother was jes' twenty when us two run away!)
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When The Frost Is On The Punkin
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
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!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roll Like The River
(lovett/peacock/clyne)
I see the birds up in the sky
They can fly so high, then why cant i
I see the fishes in the sea
And they just swim so free and laugh at me
Now I can run as fast as anyone
And no one follows me
Can you imagine anybody so free?
I got no secrets in my head
I got no books to read that must be read
I wonder down the water way
I left my cares and troubles yesterday
I got no need to be ahurrin
And no ones pushin me
And nothing ever gets to worrin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
I see new opens to the sun
And theres no door to close to anyone
Who makes rivers down my face
And Ill leave each one to find its place
I got no need to be ahurrin
And no ones pushin me
And nothing ever gets to worrin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
Roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
Roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
And Ill just roll like the river down to the sea
Now I got my freedom aint nothin holdin me
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Don't Waste Your Heart
For the life of me I can't believe
The you're on your knees beggin' please
All the pushing' away and puttin' down
Can't you see you're gettin' the run around
Oh it's plain to see you'd rescure me
From my loneliness so called unhappiness
Oh I didn't mean to cause you pain
I've got nothin' to lose and nothin' to gain
And don't waste your heart on a wild thing
She's got a soul that won't settle on one thing
Whoa this bird can't sing when you've tied its wings
Don't waste your heart on me
It's funny how the girls get burned
And honey as far as I'm concerned
The tables have turned
And don't waste your heart on a wild thing
She's got a soul that won't settle on one thing
Whoa this bird can't sing when you've tied its wings
Don't waste your heart on me
And I'm here to apologize
My heart can't compromise
song performed by by Dixie Chicks from Fly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!