Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

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Metropolitan Mania Traffic Pusher of Carbon Monoxide Brainchild of Detroit Killer Provoker of Tempers Choker of the Esophagus. Night Brings out the Pushers Of the Wonders of Turkey Ruiner of Young People who Get turned on. Red lights Underground Entertainment Little girls becoming Women Turning Little Boys into Men. Dark Alleys Figures Figuring on Who to Beat Up Money To buy the Wonders of Turkey- Lasts until Night. 24 r l

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The Author He bought a new pen And a new w riting pad And began to w rite. For a w hole week He wrote And then stopped to Examine His work He liked what He saw And published His w riting. For a time the book Was well received and its Advice was heeded. Soon, however, the book Lost its appeal and people Stopped reading it. He was hurt. He tried again with a New pen and a New writing pad. 1 hope this time He reconsiders. 23

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Serenity I got up early that morning. I dressed in my jeans and cotton shirt and left the still sleeping cabin. I pried open the door and with the first intake of cool, misty air, could hardly control the exhilara- tion in my lungs. With my rod and tackle I walked down the organ- ic path, beaten through the forest by many such ex- cursions. Wet leaves dripped silently, exuding the echoes of the forest. The harsh chatter of a chip- munk temporarily shattered the serenity of the morning. Down the familiar trail 1 went, skirting a pile of rocks, following the paths between the trees, contin- ually looking for a glimpse of shimmering light. Suddenly I stood insignificant, gazing out upon the mellow brown and dark green that merged slowly with the bright, unwavering blue. Not a ripple dis- turbed the lake . . . my lake. At the far side I could see a low mist hanging off the early morning sun. To my left a fish jumped. “A pike, I thought and approached the boat. The oars dipped into the cool glass as the boat and I rippled by. Minute whirlpools followed our progress to my favourite fishing spot below the high bluff. My boat and I sat there unmoving, meditat- ing, at peace with the world. Suddenly there was a splash, like a pebble striking the water. As my lure slowly sank, I reeled in, waiting, expectant. I heard the distant bang of our screen door slam- ming shut and glided towards the shore with my tro- phies. The air was warm now, the forest floor was almost dry, and the sun shone down through a clear cloudless sky. As I entered the clearing, the aroma of pancakes drifting through open windows was overwhelming. I walked in holding up the four pike and smiled — at life. 25