Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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Twilight The fiery west receives the sun And evening comes ; the day is done, While stars bhnk sleepy eyes above And soft is heard a cooing dove, Diana hangs her lantern out And sprinkles dew drops all about; The trees, tall watchmen of the night Are silvered in the moon ' s pale light; The night wind breathes its plaintive tune. But even this is hushed too soon, And we are left in solitude Upon these wondrous scenes to brood. Nadine Foreman, Low Nine. Keverie The whistle of a distant train. Moaning, The motor of an aeroplane, Droning, Two birds perched on a telephone wire, Singing, Four, smoky, gray clouds to the sky. Clinging, The sound of footsteps on the pavement. Clacking, The nervous, jumpy motorcycle, Cracking, The evening star in the now clear sky. Blinking, The fiery sun into the ocean. Sinking, Some one busy with his long grass. Mowing, The darkened shadows in the long street. Crowning — All these things, I see and hear while Resting. When one has this, what is gained by Questing? Gordon Connell, Low Eighth. Desert Land Sand, red and gold. Hills, purple at the rim. Dark men, tall and slim. Lean camels, plodding slow, — A different world from that we know, W. H. HoLLiNGSWORTH, High Seven.

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ode to a Grecian Urn Entranced, I saw a picture on the vase That told the story of so long ago ; No longer does that age seem in a haze But now is fair and clear to all who know: Around the vase an ever-changing scene Which so enchants that looking on it, Lo I I lose myself in Grecian scenes, The Golden Age; Thou miracle of some great potter ' s hand; The figurines upon thy surface show Scenes from an olden page upon an ancient stage. Mary Aleene Agree, Low Nine. Ode to An Ugly Woman Oh, old woman, you have an ugly face ; If you looked in a mirror, you would see : Hard, gleaming, cked eyes, and not a trace Of a smile, and to no one would you be Kind. Your teeth are falling out, and your nose Is crooked; you ' re the village gossip; All town scandal comes from no one but you. You go from house to house at night and peek In people ' s windows, doors, do Ti chimneys, too. Old woman, for bad things in life you seek. Lois Judd, Low Xine. To Give To look for beauty every day Will gladden all of life ' s pathway, Find it in the fleecy clouds, In violets, sweet, that softly shelter Tender rootlets in freezing weather, In rain drops holding each a prism Of all the colors from glorious Heaven. To give some service every day, To cheer and brighten Love ' s pathway, A tender smile when one is weary, A flower to make a life more cheery, Soft words in answer to the harsh Will make Love ' s smile sweeter yet. And, all through life, it is worth while To go the generous other mile. - Elizabeth Gill, Low Nine.

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After the Storm The beach is wrapped in a misty veil ; The wind has ceased its moaning wail ; The waves are sobbing on the shore; And the seabirds ' scream is heard no more. The sea-nymphs are singing their lullaby song ; Some say ' tis the wind, but I know they are wrong. The wavelets are dancing beneath the bright light Of the glittering stars, so abundant tonight. The breakers still crash on the wind-beaten rocks; And some hearts are saddened by empty docks; A ' et the world is thankful, relieved that it ' s free From the fear it received from a storm at sea. AIarion Badger, High Eighth. THE PRIVATE LIFE OF A LOCKER Until the last year and a half, I had been in constant use by the pupils of the Garfield School. At the beginning of the term, some boy or girl would rent me for a place in which to put his books. I was the lodging for articles, from hair pins to baseball gloves. Xow I am no longer used, because I understand the building is condemned. Instead of keeping books safe, I am the home of a family of mice. They are comforting, but I have nothing like the good old times I once had with the children. I wonder when I shall again come to the light of the school? Occa- sionally, I hear their shouts in the yard, but not nearly so loud as when they were in the building. I often wonder if they miss me, not having a locker where they can leave their belongings, or, perhaps new lockers have taken my place. If not, I may again return to my job. At night, we lockers talked of the day ' s happenings. Johnny Brown got an A on a History test, or Bill had to stay after school for chewing gum and write the gum sentence one hundred times. I can remember on Library Day I would be crammed to my utmost capacity with costumes. Without me, I don ' t see how they can get along. On a rainy day rubbers, rain coats, and rain hats, dripping wet and muddy, would occupy my space. Looking back on my past I feel like an aged philosopher getting my knowledge from the books left in my ' •safe -keeping. David Jones, High Xine.