Thursday, April 16, 2009

Old Seneca stands as a Sentinel.




Seneca Rocks
by Grace Yoke White from "Unhoarded Gold"


Old Seneca stands like a great gray hall,
With steeples and turrets and gables of granite;
It stands majestic, gigantic and tall
In the snows of winter and the breezes of spring.

Seneca Rocks was the home of the giants old
Who carved the peaks of Old Spruce Knob;
They lived and wrought on their fortress bold;
Now their spirit keeps watch at the twilight hour.

I heard the Spirit in the rustle of leaves
As the sunset gilded the tallest turret;
The Spirit whispered through the summer breeze,
"I still stand guard for my mountain people."

What a heritage to dwell where Old Seneca stands
And towers aloft to the rock-ribbed heights;
It stands to guard from all alien hands
The verdant hills and the peaceful vales.

3 comments:

Shirley Stewart Burns, Ph.D. said...

What a lovely poem!

Jason Burns said...

Have you ever seen Seneca Rocks after reading a poem about it?

*there's one we never asked!

Janet, said...

I love the Seneca Rocks area. I'm going to climb it the next time we go (the easy way of course).