Poetry Archives

Wen de snow ’s a-fallin’
  An’ de win’ is col’.
Mammy ‘mence a-callin’,
  Den she ‘mence to scol’,
“Lucius Lishy Brackett,
  Don’t you go out do’s,
Button up yo’ jacket,
  Les’n you ‘ll git froze.”

I sit at de windah
  Lookin’ at de groun’,
Nuffin nigh to hindah,
  Mammy ain’ erroun’;
Wish ‘t she would n’ mek me
  Set down in dis chaih;
Pshaw, it would n’t tek me
  Long to git some aih.

So I jump down nimble
  Ez a boy kin be,
Dough I ’s all a-trimble
  Feahed some one ‘ll see;
Bet in a half a minute
  I fly out de do’
An’ I ’s knee-deep in it,
  Dat dah blessed snow.

Den I hyeah a pattah
  Come acrost de flo’.
Den dey comes a clattah
  At de cabin do’;
An’ my mammy holler
  Spoilin’ all my joy,
“Come in f’om dat waller,
  Don’t I see you, boy?”

Wen de snow ’s a-sievin’
  Down ez sof ez meal,
Whut ’s de use o’ livin’
  ‘Cept you got de feel
Of de stuff dat’s fallin’
  ‘Roun’ an’ white an’ damp,
‘Dout some one a-callin’,
  “Come in hyeah, you scamp!”