University of Windsor - Magister Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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o OUR if 3013.32 Tenebris M older TWO DISCOVERIES Good old Creepy and little baby Crawley Were left alone, together, with a minimum of barley. Little baby Crawley meandered to the food Observing good ole Creepy we saw he didn lt brood. Each was found to eat at leisure, neither was a hoarder We were amazed when we discovered Mealies have no pecking order.' Eventually the foodstuff diminished Our Creepy and Crawley were nearly finished. Starving and famished Creepy looked toward his brother Were either inclined to devour the other? Soon it was evident, the thought was unrealistic For we clearly saw - - - -Mealies are non-cannibalisticf And so fellow scientists We 're here to report In the field of worms: we ye uncovered a lot. . . Mealies won Lt murder, They 're much, much, too kind. And there 's no pecking order To that tradition, they be blind And now from our findings One tentative conclusion we draw for your good Don 't murder or peck.' Be like the mealwormf Oh that everyone would.' I have before me, in this jar A mealworm, which is by far The ugliest thing I 've ever seen It 's long, and white , and rather lean. Divided into 13 pieces - I find that its activity ceases, Xkfhen cut along its middle line, I 'rn shocked to find, it has no spine.' With only 6 legs, I wonder how, It ever gets around at all.' And I will be the first to say That being a mealworm doesn it pay. Sr. Bonnie Anne Form 7 DIRGE FOR A IVIEALWORM Though I try to examine him with all my might, I find he puts up no helluva fight. Wiggling and squirming here and there Up my arm - into my hair.' In a valiant effort to pacify I thought a drop of water I 'd try- And suddenly he 's still and cold, I 'rn feeling brave and somewhat bold. And then, like Lazuras hom the grave, I-le revived himself, the little knave.' I took him up and dunked him fast But then I thought that he had breathed his last. But his final words were rather dim, You idiot, I can't swim! J e ff Hucul Form 4 86

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Advertising Committee ww-,gr X -S J? ' ' 1 -..-:L Standing L- to R.: Philip West, Mr- F. S. Toll, David Couvillon, Judy Bondy, Marg Cadera, Rose Marie Van Keer Eva Koszo- Seated L. to R.: Linda Van Raay, Jeanette Murray, Barbara Doran, Vincent Dumond. In Windsor Teachers' College, each,and every member of the staff had his particular job in order to keep'the College running smoothly. The Yearbook Staff also had its own particular functiong it was respon- sible for the past. While we, the students, lived in the present, the Yearbook Staff was busy recording the past. On departing from W.T.C ., you the new teacher have a copy oi Magister as a lasting momento of your year spent at the College. The final collection of these memorable association that you carry out of the College, does not relate the many hours that the Yearbook Staff spent in composing it. I would like to take this opportunity to thank my own group of workers the Advertising Staff, for their contribution to this Yearbook. A special thanks goes to Mr. Toll and Linda Van Raay, my Assistant Manager, Without Whom the completion of the advertising section would not have been possible. On behalf of the Yearbook Staff, let me thank the entire student body, who gave us the material to make this Yearbook a success. 85 Jeanette Murray Adve rtis ing Manage r

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ANTHoLocY or LosT MEMORIES IH I In that one summer She went from bad A ruddy glow To Worse-- From a long forgotten fire, Not lovely anymore. Burning low The last feeble glint-- The only lite 'cause She 's our. Electric bills 9.I'61'1 Lt paid. Turn the ashes Slowly: HOWCVCI' '--- The lite is all gone. . . Lite is not essential Far away. To the b1iHd-- A little girl--once The VSTY blind As heavens drifts away. . . Far away. Look through my window An opening TO the Streets Dark and mysterious Gathered b elow Hiding a Century Thiliking Of the silent deep Of the girl A little girl I once knew. . .I wonder I-Iearing the far-off roar. . . Where, or why? Waves Stupid questions Pounding on the reefs Who cares? Of an uninhabited isle. Doug Blake H YOU UNDERSTAND Rain Drops I cry easily Beading My tears defying both prediction and control On all the pavements Some might label my cry baby Gathered-- They do not understand To be rained on But you do. Small rivulets Running I cry indiscriminately, Through the gutters? Anything is apt to unbar the floodgates--- Becgming the flogd Movies, music, weddings, even happiness. In the gaping sewers The sight of little children often chokes me up Of the city. So do you. The final log Flickering. . .briefly I cry when frustrated, Not even eraekling now Judy asks, Daddy why is Mommy crying? The lite--Slowly dying: You patiently explain how wonderfully therapeutic Turn from my window A good cry can be. She seems to understand From the crowded streets AS V011 CIO- Outside Our crazy dreams I cry for various reasons-- Are over Sadness, gladness, tenderness, vexation, For ever and ever. . . Yet whatever the cause may be , Only one year of Solitude You always know just what to do or say Then she 's gone-- Because you understand. Likely never been. New rain falling JCHDTIE FOX Past my window Increasing the flood In the glitters Of our heaven. 87