Earl Grey School - Triangle Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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THEY REMAIN FOREVER Two thoughtful moments pledged to the dead, Frame the white crosses with gold, Flowers and wreaths, bestow endless peace, But cannot bring them back. Grateful words, sorrowful tears, Undying love through the years, Entwine poppies about the rusted helmets, But have no power where loved ones are concerned. Like a candle, ceased burning, Its light once bold and true, Though the flame be dampened, The wick and glow remain. LESLIE FOSTER ROOM 28 GRADE 7 TELEVISION AND HOMEWORK Two things, Television and Homework, mix like sour pickles and strawberries. Almost everyone you know has television, so if you haven’t, your neighbour probably has. Practically every night something good is on, and you just can’t miss it!! Tonight you say to yourself, I’ll watch one show and then do my homework. At that same momenrsomeone yells No ! from the kitchen get your homework done. Ah, but Mom there’s a good show on, ' My Favorite Husband.’ Well , she says, that IS a good programme. I’ll do my ironing a little later. So we both sit down with a bowlful of popcorn and watch the show. After it’s over I get up to do my homework, but, WAIT! ' Our Miss Brooks’ appears. So down I sit again, thinking Oh well, it HAS something to do with school anyway! We watch a few more shows and by that time they’re signing off. Boy, y bu think to yourself how time does fly! Then mother puts off her ironing till tomorrow and I my homework. After all you can’t stay up all night doing homework when you need your rest; now can you? AUDREY SAUNDERS ROOM 13 GRADE 9 THE BECKONING HAND From a cloud-blown sky to the road below, The white moon cast her eerie glow, The arms of the trees swung to and fro, As the hour of twelve drew near. With quickening steps upon blackened sod, A stealthy stranger carefully tod, For something in this place was odd, And he was filled with fear. The toll of a bell broke the silence of night, And before him rose an awesome sight, A gravestone shonewith a wierd green light, Asa wrinkled hand appeared. He walked as if in a ghostly trance, With nary a shiver and nary a glance, Slow and sure was his advance, His feet he could not steer. The beckoning hand had called him there, Then only a gap remained to stare, In that gloomy silence where Now everything was clear. PAT THORVALDSON AUDREY SAUNDERS ROOM 13 GRADE 9 27

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ELEMENTARY POETRY WINNER GRADES 2 3 “ SPRING IS COMING” The pussy willows ate out today, I saw them growing across the way, They did not mind the cold wind blowing, They did not heed a bit of snowing, But in their coats so warm and gray, They tell us spring is on the way. LORRAINE HOLLAND ROOM 1 GRADE 3 JUNIOR HIGH SHORT STORY WINNER AN UNUSUAL ADVENTURE It was a hot, sultry day. John could not wait until his tedious chores were over. He set to work with a vigorous splurge of energy. Finally, when he had finished, he grabbed his swimming trunks and tore off for the sea. He dashed down the dusty road, now and then giving one or two yells ' of sheet joy. His slcin fairly prickled with longing. The tide had gone out when he came to the beach. It had left all sorts of queer things lying on the sand. He ran he Iter, skelter into the cool, sparkling water. Up he came spluttering and laughing. He decided to be bold and swam farther and farther from shore. John began to look for adventure on the ocean floor. He dived deeper and deeper into the inviting water. What a sight he saw! Beautiful sea plants were waving in the water. Fish, all colours of the rainbow flitted everywhere. Dainty sea flowers gracefully lined the ocean floor. John was fascinated! Suddenly, something caught his eye. A scarlet thing flashed through the green foliage. It did not look like a fish. What was it? John became so interested that he began to follow it. He carefully made his way through the water. He did not know it but the scarlet thing was gradually leading him farther and farther from shore. Quite slowly it dawned on him that something was wrong. He started to go back, but huge creatures with flaying arms stopped him. He then tried to surge ahead, but they were there too. The awful creatures were closing in on him. Closer and closer they came, their tentacles waving to. and fro, beaks snapping in delight. Before them they saw a juicy being just ready to be ' eat¬ en. Suddenly the arms were all about him, grabbing, squeezing, killing. Then everything turned black and John felt himself falling, falling into an inky world of blackness. It was a long time before he awoke. There was still a buzzing sound in his head. He was in a nice, clean bed with a hot water bottle at his feet. His mother was anxiously sitting beside him. When she asked what had happened, John replied. I can’t remember anything except that I dived into the cool water and began an unusual ad- MOYRA MIL LIKEN ROOM 28 GRADE 7 THE BUTTERFLY I wish I were a butterfly. I wish I were a butterfly. Then I would fly straight to the sky. Up, up, up, I would go. And have fun like others so. BEVERLY FINLEY ROOM 1 GRADE 3

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LOCKED OUT John ran blindly down the dimly lit street.He knew itwas past 11 o ' clock. If only he could make it in time. Finally he reached the large, old house which was his home. He ran up the walk, up the creaking stairs and onto the porch. He stopped a moment to catch his breath and then he tried the front door. He turned the knob but the door wouldn ' t open. It was locked! He knew it was no use trying the windows because his Mother always locked them immediately after supper. John breathed an uneasy sigh as he realized he was locked out. Then John remembered all too well what his father told him as he was leaving for his friend Peter ' s house. John ' , he had said, if you aren ' t home before dark tonight you will be locked out for the night. This nonsense of coming home so late has got to stop. John had promised to be home early, but as usual, he and Peter had become so absorbed in an exciting T.V. program that they had forgotten all about the time. John sat down on the porch swing to decide what he would do. He couldn ' t let his Mother and Father know he was afraid. So he decided to sleep on the swing. He curled up on his sway¬ ing bed and tried to sleep.lt was so dark and still that he began to imagine things. The darkness seem¬ ed like a heavy weight pressing down on him. Suddenly the stillness was pierced with a shrill call. John jumped up, his heart pounding. He peeked out the porch window, and sighed with relief as he saw it was only the pet hawk belonging to the man next door. The hawk was perched in his cage as usual, and calling to some unknown thing in the darkness. His calling had never frightened John before as much as it did now. John got back on the swing, still shaking, and tried once more to sleep. The creek- ing of the swing hinges didn ' t make it any easier. The sounds of the night hovered around him. He wished he had obeyed his father and had come home before dark. He finally fell into an uneasy slumber. When he awakened he saw the sun slowly rising. He painfully got up and shook himself because he was very stiff from sleeping on that hard swing. From the peace of the morning light and the cheerful ness of the birds chirping he began to feel ashamed that he had been so frightened during the night. Then John heard someone open the front door. It was his Dad. John rushed up to him and apologised for disobeying him and said that he would always be home on time from now on. His father smiled knowingly. He knew what kind of a night John had spent because the same thing had happened to him when he was about John ' s age. Come on in for breakfast, son. And with that John and his father walked into the house. They both felt that that would be the last time John would be locked out for coming home late. LOTTIE SCHUBERT ROOM 13 THE LEPRECHAUN A leprechaun without a boot, Once sat upon a twisted root. His face was wrinkled as the bark His eyes shone yellow in the dark. Oh, leprechaun, what do you do? I ' m cobbling a fairy ' s shoe. He worked away with awl and hammer, His golden hobnails made a glow. The boots were soft, green as leaves, pointed at the toe. Oh, leprechaun, what tiny shoes! I make the kind that fairies use. GERRY TRIDER ROOM 23 GRADE 5 28