I pondered 'bout the rainbow

And then of sugary sweets

'Bout the Baker's dozen,

Of cookie jars and treats. . . .

Drifting even further,

A walkin thru the past,

Barefootin down the hollow's,

A chewin sassafras. . . .

Yonder ways I saw,

A farmer's long straight row,

The harvest-moon arisin,

Set off a fiery glow. . . .

The crickets started creakin,

They could have woke the dead,

As thru the past I journeyed,

, To my old feather bed. . . .