James Whitcomb Riley

(7 October 1849 - 22 July 1916 / Greenfield, Indiana)

James Whitcomb Riley Poems

361. Little-Girl-Two-Little-Girls 4/9/2010
362. Bedouin 4/9/2010
363. Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze 4/9/2010
364. Dear Hands 4/9/2010
365. A Song 4/9/2010
366. When Mother Combed My Hair 4/9/2010
367. Even Song 4/9/2010
368. Where The Children Used To Play 4/9/2010
369. Elizabeth 4/9/2010
370. Our Boyhood Haunts 4/9/2010
371. Old October 4/9/2010
372. Donn Piatt Of Mac-O-Chee 4/9/2010
373. Green Fields And Running Brooks 4/9/2010
374. Dead Selves 4/9/2010
375. Her Hair 4/9/2010
376. When The Hearse Comes Back 4/9/2010
377. Indiana 4/9/2010
378. If I Knew What Poets Know 4/9/2010
379. Her Face And Brow 4/9/2010
380. A Monument For The Soldiers 4/9/2010
381. Unless 1/3/2003
382. Old Aunt Mary's 4/9/2010
383. A Feel In The Chris'Mas-Air 4/9/2010
384. Griggsby's Station 4/9/2010
385. A Letter To A Friend 4/9/2010
386. The Bumblebee 12/31/2002
387. A Delicious Interruption 4/9/2010
388. When My Dreams Come True 4/9/2010
389. A Summer Sunrise 4/9/2010
390. When The Green Gits Back In The Trees 4/9/2010
391. Her Beautiful Hands 4/9/2010
392. A Fruit Piece 4/9/2010
393. A Man Of Many Parts 4/9/2010
394. A Dost O' Blues 4/9/2010
395. A Canary At The Farm 4/9/2010
396. A Diverted Tragedy 4/9/2010
397. A Home-Made Fairy Tale 4/9/2010
398. A Child-World 4/9/2010
399. Babyhood 4/9/2010
400. A Liz Town Humorist 4/9/2010

Comments about James Whitcomb Riley

  • Carolyn Binkley (10/6/2005 6:47:00 PM)

    James Whitcomb Riley is by far one of my favorite poets of all time. I love his imagery, his imagination, his rhyme and rhythm. And most of all I love his sense of 'simple' and his connection to the nature in all of us. He cleverly plays with that which is real, unlike Lewis Carroll who cleverly plays with that which is not.

    24 person liked.
    11 person did not like.
Best Poem of James Whitcomb Riley

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...

Read the full of When The Frost Is On The Punkin

A Parting Guest

What delightful hosts are they --
   Life and Love!
Lingeringly I turn away,
   This late hour, yet glad enough
They have not withheld from me
   Their high hospitality.
So, with face lit with delight
   And all gratitude, I stay
   Yet to press their hands and say,

[Report Error]