Galesburg High School - Reflector Yearbook (Galesburg, IL)

Page 12 text:

bf' 0 7 ,Fig , .w-iifgpei ,fffgff 1a'a:.-izgfffi: -1 ggfi'-:S 1 : f -L Tlii-ff wx i ' Ti 'Tiff sal' 1 i , '1' 'muh :lf n-sunk 515- 4. ., ,ifiif-if H ii' -22 2 Q 'fiii gkiilfrl Ccirnsiolk Burning Time When l loolc to the East-- A half dozen suns are rising, Soft, rosy hali-circles cast a pale pinlc mist about them. Far to the West-- Other suns are sinlcing, Ruddy, crimson discs, glowing with a rose-ash hue. And in the North-- l-ligh, high up, My new Jerusalem burns, lts pillars are in flames, lts duslcy rool merges into night. It is April -- corn-stallc burning time. - Enid Peterson Night Queen The night is a haughty queen Who ilaunts bright stars in her hair, She displays to the world a robe Qi glorious, silver air. She moves through the jeweled slcy Surveying her lcingdom wide, Leaving brolcen, useless dreams That human hearts must hide. - Blanche Cordell

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f I, 'I xx , .im- I KNOW A WIND. A BOUNCING WIND. IT BREATHS OF SALT AND ROTTING OAK OF OLD RUBBER BOOTS AND CLAMS. HALF DRIED IN THE SUN I KNOW A WIND. A LONG. THIN WIND. IT SINGS TO ME IN MY ROCK-BOUND CAVE AS IT SHARPENS ITS EDGE G A I ON A R N TE CLIFF HIGH ABOVE THE TIMBER LINE. RUSSELL NELSON. -.jim ,'1:, - F' -Eliiffrf 57332212 5233- :A ,Ag 2, .za 1 . iii xligfg, v :W :2?f455's: z,,1g '.J,f:s- fsqfii' 5 3'lif's,Q'iE'f .f,. - . I 'x f 'V'-:'9i,'2o . '1 Hs. '- f1L'.'.E'--s , 'mini Z. fy, .39 iliiiv.-.rf-,221 'HMA iffqlfz. .fiaf I gig If 'fx gf, gig W as ag rf? ix iii ga jg? .BY gg Qi 315' r, rf? E? gf' W WIND SCDNGS The wind is a saga singer. Soft and whispering in fragrant cherry boughs or loud and merry over rippling grain Fields, Lashing the snow in a Dalcota blizzard or the waves in a storm at sea, Playing with the dust of a slummy street or howling over the arid plains-country, Lush and warm in the tropics or melancholy in a clammy, northern drizzle, Or whining under the eaves and hooting down the chimney-flue, In all moods and weathers, ways and places, times and voices, I-le sings his songs in all ears. But Few listen, And lewer understand. -Olivgrwarnzr l lcnow a wind, A, gay little breeze- Tripping merrily across the meadow, Tiptoeing into the woods, Slcipping across a laughing stream, Rippling the waters of a placid pool, Lingering a moment in the sombre shadows of the pines, Dashing away to the sun-bathed valley, Stopping to caress a dew-drenched violet, Greeting a smiling dalfodil, Dancing away to the hillside, Catching a lcite on high in' gleelul abandon, Saluting the dawn, I Laughing at life, Wild, joyous windl -Loldmde I-mes I . , X 7? 7: jf:-.1 315-7'

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Qciober Shadows fliclcer o'er the landscape on a late October day. The last pale aster smiles into the stream That murmurs o'er the pebbles in its way. And there-tinted with a hundred brilliant dyes Procured from heaven's crown- The forest stands. And now and then a leaf drifts gently down, Soft as angel wings. Far above, the swallows homeward fly, Silhouettes against an evening slcy. - LaVerne Stewart lniervol of Evening l watched the moon malce curtsy low To poplar trees and steepled tower When fading duslc had offered night One brief and solemn hour. l wallced along the fragrant lane And heard the whip-poor-will afar Produce his lonesome, pensive trill To celebrate a falling star. -Lois Duvall FIND!! POPLAR BUDS POPLAR BUDS ARE WOOLY WORMS THAT CRAWL OUT IN THE SPRING. FROM EVERY BRANCH AND LXMB AND TWIG THEY COVER TREES WITH FRINGE ERN TPELTIER. xx w ' f jr I :..:::::sQ1 lgfglggriw K if 4' gp, R ix