I originally read these in Best Loved Poems of the American People. I did love that book! The original version is a schmaltzy reminiscence of an icon of the writer's childhood: an oaken bucket he used to draw water from the well. As it's summer vacation where I am, this poem is a great match for the local ambiance (except for the part where we actually have no water, since we're in a desert/wild-fire state). However, being far more snarky than schmaltzy, what appeals to me most is that someone wrote a "rebuttal" poem -- the version posted below the original. I love that someone took the time to rewrite the poem from another point of view -- in this case a drastic change from the original. Rather than happily reliving his childhood, this author looks back in horror at actually drinking out of that wooden vessel.