Watermelon Seed Packets...Poetry with Seeds

Oh! it’s wortermelon time is a-comin’ round ag’in,
And they ain’t no man a-livin’ any tickelder’n me,
Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin—
Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see.
                                                        James Whitcomb Riley 1922

Entire wonderful poem at end of post...

Cuban Queen, Dixie, Florida Favorite,  Kleckley's Sweet,  Kolb's Gem, Stone Mountain, Florida Giant, Tom Watson,  Tom Watson Improved,  Dixie Queen,  Georgia Rattlesnake...all promises of summer.


1895 - POEMS from AMERICA

"Literature ought to keep open house, and her progress is towards this desirable state of affairs, though there was a time when the stranger in England found it somewhat hard to obtain a hearing, chiefly because he came from afar, and could be so easily disregarded. 

But all this is changed —so much changed that when the polished Bushman from the fringes of the Kalahari desert, or the educated Maori, or the Pawnee versed in belleslettres, produces the inevitable epic, room will be found in the English papers for praise or blame, for the tendency of to day is to know the best, and even the worst, of what is foreign.

 When a singer sends us melodies across the sea it is a delightful accident if they have a sweet appeal, since there is no pleasure like that of behaving as a good host to a good guest. Here is Mr. Stanton asking for our vote. He need not ask twice, for indeed it is a small thing to give as a thank-offering for so few as a couple of his fragrant ditties. Are you not won immediately by this melon song?"

~ The Georgia Melon ~ 

Songs of the Soil. By Frank L. Stanton

Oh, the Georgia watermelon—it's a-growin'
cool an' green,
An'll soon be pullin' heavy at the stem;
An' the knife—it needs a whettin', an' the
blade is gettin' keen.
Oh, the Georgia watermelon is a gem I

Melons cool an' green—
Jest the best you ever seen!
Soe the sweet juice drippin'
From them melons cool an' green!

Oh, the Georgia watermelon—with the
purtiest sort o' stripe!
It ain't a streak o' fat an' streak o' lean; 

You thump her with your fingers, an' yon hear her answer,' Ripe!'  Oh, the Georgia watermelon cool an' green!

This poem went on forever....