Crawford High School - Centaur Yearbook (San Diego, CA)

Page 28 text:

.f AN IDLE CRY lVly love, my only baby, speak to him. Open your eyes and receive him. Beg it of the saint to heal you, As the boy reaches out to touch the saint, the Flame of Life flickers out in his eyes, like a candle in the wind. The weight of his body lies cradled in his mothers arms. Her eyes are brilliant with frenzy, t'Oh God, don't take my only baby away from me! Her face is stricken with horror. As her son lies limp, .lifeless in her arms. The color in his face gradually turns blue and cold. The mother turns and unwantingly she sees in the distance the floating spirit of her baby drifting away as though reaching outto life one more. With the baby cradled in her arms she just sits there, in the midst of the night, lonesome, longing forthe love of her baby. .. Alone. DanDeras 5275 'ff W rf 'r A I K yi ,:' ,nv ' Charlotte Hoshi ii, QDESQ-'T ,'?oE:bf4aT,'ReeaUf JL cove vow, You pee-2, A SUM Awuc scaly come, C' iF 1 Gem-2 You knot oF -Hnessbfcw we Yaibfq, :LM OMB N6 Got TD ee, Famous was vawe. , but No Ezpcus-if PM-'iv 1 WFS 'TO S22 You Maven. C12ivbi.uUfDTUr STAY We SML2 AND Moe, A -H, 5 WDNDEALPUU, Fuctuw It ' Usmi wifi? gumsniwf, ,Mob 'wtf f,.,-,-- ml K if f A , nv., N f 24

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ff Eu .iE:J' Walking down the sandy shores I hear the noises and the roars Of waves breaking These sounds seem to lure Afeeling. l'm notsure Of its meaning. A feeling of regret within, l Becausel know all comes to an I And this, the beginning. end, Ji 2.5.5 i,.yV 5 V .N -5- N 3 TO YOU Love came to me the other day like a soft butterfly, I wasn't lookingfor it, I didn't see it coming, and then it was there. lt was so soft, so beautiful, and yet so fragile, the wind could break it. l'm being careful with that butterfly trying hard not to lose it. But it keeps flying short distances from my hand, yetalways returning. Cage it, you say? ah, that would prove fatal. Sometimes I sit and think Upon the rocks and the pink Wildflowers growing, Of how life and death meet On an endless shoreline to compete For usall. lVlelodie Grace no E x 'i CD 3 cn for a butterfly needs its freedom. Caged, itwill break its delicate wings upon the bars, and fade, and wither, and Then nothing will be left of that beautiful creature, except memories. And I, I would rather have the butterfly itself. So fly away, if you must and please return soon, But if you don't l'll try not to cry. die. CindyGoode

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