October

October is the treasurer of the year,
5And all the months pay bounty to her store:
The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,
5And fill her brimming coffers more and more.
But she, with youthful lavishness,
Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress,
5And decks herself in garments bold
5Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold.

She heedeth not how swift the hours fly,
5But smiles and sings her happy life along;
She only sees above a shining sky;
5She only hears the breezes' voice in song.
Her garments trail the woodland through,
And gather pearls of early dew
5That sparkle till the roguish Sun
5Creeps up and steals them every one.

But what cares she that jewels should be lost,
5When all of Nature's bounteous wealth is hers?
Though princely fortunes may have been their cost,
5Not one regret her calm demeanor stirs.
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,
She lives her life out joyously,
5Nor cares when Frost stalks o'er her way
5And turns her auburn locks to gray.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Very nice Pooka.

AND......................the Indians win the WS