Uncle Josh's Punkin Centre Stories

It is Fall

     THE days are gettin' shorter, and
     the summer birds are leaving,

     The wind sighs in the tree tops,
     as though all nature was grieving;

     The leaves they drop in showers, there's a
     blue haze over all,

     And a feller is reminded that once again it's
     Fall.

     It is a glorious season, the crops most gathered
     in,

     The wheat is in the granary and the oats are
     in the bin;

     A feller jest feels splendid, right in harmony
     with all,

     The old cider mill a-humin', 'gosh, I know
     it's Fall.

     I hear the Bob White whistlin' down by the
     water mill,

     While dressed in gorgeous colors is each
     valley, knoll and hill;

     The cows they are a-lowing, as they slowly
     wander home,

     And the hives are just a-bustin' with the
     honey in the comb.

     Soon be time for huskin' parties, or an apple
     paring bee,

     And the signs of peace and plenty are just
     splendid for to see;

     The flowers they are drooping, soon there
     won't be none at all,

     Old Jack Frost has nipped them, and by that
     I know it's Fall.

     The muskrat has built himself a house down
     by the old mill pond,

     The squirrels are laying up their store from
     the chestnut trees beyond;

     While walking through the orchard I can
     hear the ripe fruit fall;

     There's an air of quiet comfort that only
     comes with Fall.

     The wind is cool and bracing, and it makes
     you feel first-rate,

     And there's work to keep you going from
     early until late;

     So you feel like giving praises unto Him
     who doeth all,

     Nature heaps her blessings on you at this
     season, and it's Fall.

     The nights are getting frosty and the fire
     feels pretty good,

     I like to see the flames creep up among the
     burning wood;

     Away across the hilltops I can hear the hoot
     owl call,

     He is looking for his supper, I guess he
     knows its Fall.

     And though the year is getting old and the
     trees will soon be bare,

     There's a satisfactory feeling of enough and
     some to spare;

     For there's still some poor and needy who
     for our help do call,

     So we'll share with them our blessings and
     be thankful that it's Fall.