He snuggles his fingers In the blacker loam The lean months are done with. The fat to come. His eyes are set On a brushwood-fire But his heart is soaring Higher and higher. Though he stands ragged An old scarecrow, This is the way His swift thoughts go, "@3Butter beans fo' Clara Sugar corn fo' Grace An' fo' de little feller Runnin' space@1. "@3Radishes and lettuce Eggplants and beets Turnips fo' de winter An' candied sweets@1. "@3Homespun tobacco Apples in de bin Fo' smokin' an' fo' cider When de folks draps in@1." He thinks with the winter His troubles are gone; Ten acres unplanted To raise dreams on. The lean months are done with, The fat to come. His hopes, winter wanderers, Hasten home. "@3Butterbeans fo' Clara Sugar corn fo' Grace An' fo' de little feller Runnin' space@1 . . . " | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEY PRAISE THE SUN by JOHN CROWE RANSOM EXILE OF ERIN by THOMAS CAMPBELL A CHILD'S PET by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE PHILOSOPHER TOAD by REBECCA S. REED NICHOLS THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS by JOHN JEROME ROONEY THE BAREFOOT BOY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |