Battin High School - Red and White Yearbook (Elizabeth, NJ)

Page 12 text:

ATOM BOMIB Faster and faster, From the sky it falls, Carrying itself in deadly potency To the unsuspecting earth below. A blinding flame Rises high and widef A Hame red with the blood of people And yellow with the grain from their fields. A great roar 5 Echoes through the sky- i A roar whose force tears homes from their foundations 3 And crumbles them to the ground. A terrified scream Dies silently away- A scream meaning death to thousands of people And portents to those far away. - Horrible, .murderous death, Quickly replacing life- The lethal column of annihilation Stretches forth in dismal review. ' Donrs BLACKIVIAN, 'go His MAJESTY Aloof, With regal mien, the monarch stands, Tall and imposing. His deep purple robes, Hecked With patches of ermine, Radiate magnificence. Crowned By a Hashing, sparkling Diadem of snow and ice, A majestic mountain Surveys his domain. ANITA MAZZARELLA, 'go 10 THE PAIN TER He was a tired, bent old man. His work was finished for the day. His paint can hung from one worn hand. He sighed and put his brush away. He drew a cotton square from his pocket And with a slow gesture wiped his forehead His eyes grew bright with pleasure When he thought of the leisure Of the soft easy chair That awaited him. ANNE MARIE EHRHARDT, '50

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A 'rrm Tonirunn HOUR H. , Q '. :Y fa R QWith apologies to Mr. Longfellow, X ,X I Q. - 4' Between the dark and the daylight When the day rs beginning to glower Comes a pause then a stop in my sleep That is known as the torture hour. 7 I hear from beneath my covers The flapping of little wings, The sound ofa buzzing that circles And in my ear drum rings. From my bed I see in the dim light, Descending from the air for the kill, A fly, that is black and ugly, 'Round my head starting to mill. A buzzing and then a silence, Yet I know from his many-celled eyes, He is plotting and planning within him To take me by surprise. A sudden rush from my bedpost! A sudden raid from the Wall! Through my mouth that is left unguarded, He enters my cavernous hall. He annoys me so much for he tickles As he climbs about on my face, If I try to catch him, he eludes me And leads me a merry chase. Do you think, oh, black-eyed nuisance, Because you have flown from me once, Such a sleepy young girl as I am Is not a match for you, dunce! I have you fast in my hands now And will not let you depart, But put you out of the window Where I hope you'll stay if you're smart. N ow I think I could sleep forever, I Yes, forever and a day . . . I But alas, once again under covers, I find my sleep, too, has flown away. LEONA GOLDBLATT, 750

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.jd .gifeet .Saville It is an ordinary street. The houses are neat, even though they aren't the best in the city. A few cars parked along the curbs are mainly jalopies. The sidewalks are marked and remarked with hopscotch blocks, and a pair of roller skates lies forgotten near a railing. Overloaded garbage cans line the street, and a cat atop one is busily investigating the fish bones from last night's supper. On the corner is Gray's candy store. Mrs. Gray stands outside, a big woman with a heart as big as herself. Bob Dara and Sally Maretti come walking slowly down the street with stars in their eyes, not seeing or hearing anything, lost in each other. And all the neighborhood kids! There seem to be a million of them! Billy Thompson is fighting with his sister lane for is it Susie?j over a toy. A car comes speeding down the road. That Mason boyin his bright yellow hot-rod! There he goes! Right through a red light! On the porches of adjacent houses stand three women, discussing the weather, new styles, and how much weight Mrs. Racowski is putting on. In the street below Mrs. Harrigan is having a friendly argument with Mrs. O'Riley as to which one did the larger wash- ing. Gloria Fallon and Kathleen Tampler are trying awfully hard to be be grown up as they discuss new hair-dos and their favorite movie -stars. It is a street in any city in the United States. CLARA SCALZO, '52 lqclfure The old man was sitting on the park bench with his eyes closed. Everything around him was as peaceful as he was. He came to the park frequently to hear the birds sing and to smell the fragrance of the earth and flowers. I was compelled to stop and watch him for a while. The sun glistened on his white hair, making it like a halo around his head. His work-wom hands clasped his cane loosely. His head began to nod. He paid no attention to the squirrels scampering around his feet, eating the peanuts he had given them. Suddenly he was brought into the life of today by a tiny, blonde- haired girl who came skipping toward him. The dreamy look in his eyes changed to a lively twinkle as he smiled at her, then put her on his knees. The child put her arms around his neck and said, Please tell me a story, Grand-daddy. A sudden warmth came over me as I watched the two sitting there on the bench. I walked away silently, feeling at peace with all the world. MILDRED FLORCZAK, '50