Boody Junior High School - Beacon Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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mmu POEMS-LYRICAL and PHILOSOPHICAL m SPRING BEAUTY The golden-winged butterfly flits through the shining sun, And the dainty little buttercup nods at everyone. There's a breeze in the air, and a hush through the trees, And laughing voices come ringing through the breeze. The trees put forth their tender leaves, And the rainbow in the sky a magic streak weaves. Such is the beauty and glory of Spring, The time when Nature smiles at every living thing. Theodore Sinitsky, RBI C THE FLOWERS I know a place where Roses grow- All in a pretty little row, Daisies and lilies and tulips too. I go picking them just for you. Filomena Ruocco, 7B6 O SPRING Wake upl Wake upl you lazy thing, Pull up the shades, and begin to singl Can't you smell the fragrance of flowers That come with rainbows and April showers? Spring is here, the flowers are blooming, Birds are singing and some are crooning. Wake up! Wake upl you lazy thing, Can't you smell the air of spring? Gloria Steckler, 7BI 0 TWO PORTRAITS Her eyes, how they sparkle, Her dimples so merry, Her lips like a rose, Her cheeks like a cherry.

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THE OTHER GIRL Her hair quite straight, Her nose quite long, Her character, ah her character, Sweet as a song. THE FIRST GIRL Her eyes, how they flash, Her teeth, how they glitter, Oh, how she does make my heart pitter. Her character, ah her character! 'Tis hard and cruel and mean, But all the boys are still keen. But then, as the years went by, We all began to sigh. For the girl who was not so pretty Became prettier than the prettiest ditty.. And her home was filled with laughter, Forever, and ever after. But the girl on whom beauty had shone, She, yes she, was all alone. Sylvia Goldsmith, 9BI O A DREAM OF YESTERYEAR I wish I were an old fashioned girl, Who would daintily comb each perfect curl, And smooth out wrinkles in elaborate frocks With the regularity of Grandfather Cloocks. And when l'd wear my bonnet made of silk, l'd be wondering what would happen if I lived till today. l'd wonder if I'd want to see it and to stay, Or to live in those dear days of modesty, And family-long aristocracy. Rosemary McVarish, RBI MY IMAGINATION Whenever I go to sleep at night, I see all around a most creepy sight. A goblin, yes, a goblin all dressed in black, And on his shoulder he carries a sock.