During my college years at Taylor University, one of my favorite things was when Dr. Jay Kesler, my mentor and friend, recited the beginning of a poem by James Whitcomb Riley before giving his message in one of the fall chapel services each year. In honor of Jay and of the first frost in Batesville, Indiana, I’m sharing the poem this morning. I hope you enjoy!
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.