The blueberries are almost ripe-
September month will soon be here,
And that's the time I love the best-
The very best of all the year.
 
In childhood days we roamed the hills
I still remember well - don't you?
We'd watch the berries turn from white
To red, and then at last to blue.
 
Then eagerly we'd dart about,
And with each other we would vie
To see who'd be the first to get
Enough blueberries for a pie.
 
And then would start the happy time
When we'd go off each fine day,
To gather in the luscious fruit
And while the happy hours away.
 

'Twas years before the motor cars-
(And I confess, we had no bikes)
But we were young and full of pep
And on shank's mare we gaily hiked.
 
As soon as we had reached the hills
We'd start at once our pails to fill,
"You got your bottom covered yet"?
You'd hear us call from hill to hill.
 
Remember how you often vowed
You wouldn't eat a single one?
You quite forget you'd be betrayed
By purple teeth and purple tongue.
 
At noon-time when the sun was hot
We'd seek a spot with gentle breeze
And listen to the chirp of birds
And loll beneath the sun-flecked trees.

But soon we would be up again
For youngsters cannot long be still,
The big blue clusters beckoned us
The berries shone upon the hill!
 
How blue they were! how round and fat!
I'm sure you must remember too
They swarmed before your eyes at night
But twice as big and twice as blue.
 
Then came the highligh of the day
The kettle boiled down by the brook
I always was the eager one
To dance attendance on the cook.
 
I'd gather kindling for the fire
And put the kettle on the stick,
And see that there were plenty boughs
To make the fire tow'r high and thick.
 
(My most nostalgic memories
In later years, were oft aroused
By the merry crackle and the smell
Of fragrant smoke, from blasty boughs.)

We never failed to out the fire
With plenty water from the brook,
Then gathered up our pails and things
And home our merry way we took.
 
Now each year when the time comes round
The time when blueberries are ripe
I shed my worries and my cares
And to the handy hills I hike.
 
My heart is full of song and joy
When berry picking time is here,
For that's the time I love the best-
The very best of all the year.