When the Frost is on the Punkin

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who refuse to acknowledge Christmas until December, and those who have been playing Bing Crosby since October. Whichever side of the spectrum you fall on, I know you’ll enjoy this week’s fall-related poem. It’s a classic by James Whitcomb Riley called “When the Frost is on the Punkin.” Go grab your pumpkin spice latte or your peppermint mocha and give it a read.