Collingwood District Collegiate Institute - Gleaner Yearbook (Collingwood, Ontario Canada)

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Cardinal He's gleaming, brilliant red, A big black mask upon his face And a topnot on his head. His lady dresses soberly In grey just trimmed with red: She s shy and very wary, With a topnot on her head. He's very, very watchful, Flies of: in quick alarm, But back he comes for raisins A bundle full of charm. ' He's always very chipper. He whistles. Do you hear? He's speaking very clearly, nwhat cheer! What cheer! What cheerln By1- Donald Bell KIA Second in Upper School Poetry MOTHERS what are mothers? Some people would think that was a very odd question and yet if you really questioned them, they couldn't give a very good definition. Some would say that they were persons who, well, washed dishes, cleaned floors, and did washing. They do just that. But I've a different idea of mothers and I'm going to tell you what a mother means to me, My mother has loved me since the day I was born. I know that, because she had knitted me pretty little sweaters, bootees, bonnets and all sorts of tiny, dainty clothes. She bathed me every morning and sprinkled me with powder and how she loved to sit me on her knee and rock and sing me to sleep. But time doesn't hold back and I began to grow. First birthdays and Christmases, ----- Yes Christmas! what times we had on Christmas day! I'll always remember my eighth Christmas when I woke up and found the very puppy, that had wagged his stubby tall at me from the pet shop window, sitting under the tree. Yes, that was Christmas full of surprises and wonderful things. Time went on and as I grew up, different and unusual things happened. High School, formal dances, my first job and millions of other things and there in the shadow was mother always ready to steady me when the load was heavy. Then there came the boy of my dreams and when I was twenty-two I was married. Sure, mom cried but they were tears of happiness because she knew I was happy. Now I have a little boy of two and I finally have found the reason why my mother loved me. It was because I was her own. So if you happen to be lucky and have a mother, start now to appreciate her, before it is too late because after all she is a human being too and she loves you very much. By: Mary Horne XB First in Lower School Essay

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NY CHOICE Have you ever been asked the question, Nwhich season of the year, do you prefer?H If so did you have to ponder the question in your mind for a while? It is really a question which should not be answered without some serious thought, because when we take each season separately and measure its qualities, each in its own way abounds with beauty and wonder beyond belief. Spring, when every tree and flower seems to just burst into life from a long, refreshing slumberg Summer, with her warm sunshine providing joy for young and old, Autumn, rich with wondrous colours, and Winter - this is my choice - ah, yes, winter, when this big wide, wonderful earth is covered with a blanket of white, and every flower and shrub disappears from view, having been once more tucked in for a cozy nap. when I awoke the other morning and gazed out the window, the exquisite scene that was before my eyes made me just stop and utter a prayer of thanks to our Maker, for providing such a beautiful world for us to live in. Everything was covered with a fluffy coating of white down, which seemed to sparkle and dance as the sun shone majestically on it from out of the blue sky above. The ever- greens were looking quite elegant, as if they were ready to go off to some special occasion, in their dress of soft white. All the fence posts were capped, and the world looked so fresh and neat, just like a child after a fond mother has scrubbed him until he is spotless and nearly shines. It seemed almost a sin that this lovely scene would soon be marred in different ways by man, as he went about his many tasks. Yet, do we really appreciate all this that has been provided for us, too busy, rushing here and there to notice the beauty of the world? The next time you are hurrying down the street, instead of wondering going to arrive at your destination on time, look right after you just pause a moment, take a look around you, and see if you, too,are sed and thankful that you live in such a beautiful and scenic world? By: Gail McLean XB First in Lower School Essay. The Metis He loved to feel his paddle surge against the rapids roar, To feel the r1ver's spume and spray against his weathered cheek, To guide his craft to safety where the screaming eagles soar, And the hidden forest trails of red men seek. His arm was brawng his eye was clear - as water from a spring, And when the steering oar was in his hand it seemed a living thing, So true it kept the hidden rocks and snags afar-- But now those days are distant as the ghostly evening star. To-day he sits with beard as white Outside the trading those who some And wonder if a man skilfully as he Canoed his winter's wizened as snow post to and go, is left load of OI' are we if you are do arrive, not impres- face and muse on who fur to the country near the sea. No longer can he race with death on every rapid, shoot and falls, N0 longer does he leave the town when the friendly forest His limbs that once w re hard are withered like a leaf. All that's left to do is wait in memories and peace. calls. as iron the end Byz- Rosemary Ruppert XIB First in Upper School Poetry ll-

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The Autumn World The trees are all ablaze with golden gloryg Some are tinted with a crimson hue. The leaves contrast the vast sky up above them. Which spreads on high, a dome of vivid blue. Small squirrels soamper in the lofty tree-tops, As they go about their work and play. They scurry here and scramble there together, Storing food for many a wintry day. Wild geese are flying southward for the winter: Flying past the mountain range so high. The crazy peaks watch o'er the land in silence, unchanging as the sands of time drift by. Some hunter's horn rings out from coloured forest. Swift hounds have caught the scent of some wild The pounding hoofs of faithful hunting horses Beat rhythmic sounds to every listening ear. What thrills the human soul as much in Nature As autumn's fair enchantment o'er the lend? The sky, the birds, the forests, and the mountains, All fashioned by the Great Creator's hand. Byz- walter Morris XA First in Lower School Poetry A Winter's Night The snow fell S0ff1Y Bhd Quietly Covering the naked earth with a'blanket Of snowy down, soft as an angel B Win83 And as quiet as an angel'S SODS- Each tiny flake was carved and shaped With masterly perfection to each tiny And as they fell, the mO0n Game out line. Lighting the night to a radiant glow, It made the snow sparkle and prance Like diamonds on a brilliant rainbow. The world was lovely that night. And one could not help deer L tti his heart dance with unbounded joy! This Sis the night to leave one's troubles behind And dream of wonderful things to come. So when you see the snow begin to fall, Go for a dreamy walk on a winter's night, For And The The you'l1 forget your idle wants and wishes begin to appreciate and admire beautiful and most wonderful thing of al world on a winter's night. Byz- Mary Horne, XB Second in Lower School Poetry 1