Come Visit October

"October" by West Virginia poet, Grace Yoke White, from her 1953 book "Unhoarded Gold".

What does it matter if my house is not swept,
Or my beds placed to air in a hygenic way?
For in through my window a birdcall crept,
And a red-throated songster hopped near to say:

"Come, share the joy of the fine autumn weather;
The goldenrod gleams near bypaths and roadways;
While tall, flaming asters, like purple heather,
Keep time as they nod at the birds through the day."

Come stand 'neath the trees, let the leaves drift around you--
The red and the brown, the crimson and gold;
Come, roam out of doors, in the sun and the dew;
Come, forget that time passes, that days will grow cold.

Come out in the sun and the soft autumn moon;
Let's enjoy the bright days and nights as they pass;
Come, gather the beauties that fade all too soon;
Come out in the open while the season lasts.

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.