Appleby College - Argus Yearbook (Oakville, Ontario Canada)

Page 74 text:

THE STAG The stag, being a truly mighty beast. Stood testing the open air of dawn. Being one of few that could Defy the dangers of the mists That silently shrouded a lush, green carpet of meadow, And another, more lurking, lying thing. The thing was just a harmless shadow to the stag, Being downwind and thus far From detection by the mighty antlers That might have done their owner more yet. Had the shadow not moved, ever so carefully, A third, more deadly arm to its shoulder. The stag, busy with a meal of tender grass. Stiffened, uplifted nostrils straining in the air Which held the third limb ' s click. Foreboding messenger to the shocking Thunder That bore the stag to the earth again; A shadow ' s delight. S. Roloff (10 E) MORE MA aJSCRlPTS TO MUNCH One day my bookworm went into the M-section of the dictionary. He stepped on a Meteor and turned Mauve. He took some Medicine for Mauve people and felt Much better. Mournfully Meandering More slowly he Met a Mad Mouse who Mentioned his Mother. The bookworm Made a Merry jest and Miraculously cheered up. The Mouse ' s Mother has Many More Manuscripts to Munch for lunch. Simon Thornley (Grade 4)

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One must be humble in front of nature. The desire to interpret must not make one lose intimate, direct contact with it. Camille Pissarro Nature is not benevolent. With ruthless indifference she makes all ' things serve her ends. Lao Tze 1 paint only what I see. I ' v seen it, I ' ve felt it, maybe differently from other epochs in my life, but I ' s never painted anything but what I ' v seen and felt. Picasso

Page 75 text:

f P TO A MOTHER l l ■1 ■ A gentle loving guardian she, H 1 H In smiling vigU constant. H H H The mind of two, the heart of three, H H H The patience of a thousand. TB H 1 A nurse of monumental skill, Vj l H A teacher, often trying. t M H A sergeant with an eye for drill, 1 1 A happy woman, crying. S H H She is all this and much, much more. 1 H I swear by Him above her. M 1 I am her son for evermore. I H H And she, she is my mother. 1 H B) From a Son: 1 Though I may talk and scream. H and even bluster. H 1 send you this with all my simple heart can muster. ' H B ' E. R. Dickens II ( 9E) LAST CHANCE The court of redwings and of jays Decide to wage a war upon the larger humans Who kill us by the score. We dive and try to gain Our kingdom that is lost By countless concrete trees In the forest of all cost. The humans laugh and point at us; Our feathers turning grey; Shots ring out in the air. We lose to leaden slaves: And at our death Time merely shrugs. B. Tate (12E) 1 71