W'en de leaves begin to fall, An' de fros' is on de ground, An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree; W'en I heah de dinner call, An' de chillen gadder 'round, 'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me. W'en de wintertime am pas' An' de spring is come at las', W'en de good ole summer sun begins to shine; Oh! my thoughts den tek a turn, An' my heart begins to yearn Fo' dat watermelon growin' on de vine. Now, de yeah will sholy bring 'Round a season fu' us all, Ev'y one kin pick his season f'om de res'; But de melon in de spring, An' de 'possum in de fall, Mek it hard to tell which time o' year am bes'. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POPPY-LAND EXPRESS by EDGAR WADE ABBOT THE IMPERCIPIENT (AT A CATHEDRAL SERVICE) by THOMAS HARDY CREPUSCULE DU MATIN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL MADRIGAL: 109 by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI DRAKE'S DRUM by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT RICH AND POOR; OR, SAINT AND SINNER by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK NATIONAL ODE; INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA by BAYARD TAYLOR |