Herbert H Lehman High School - Gemini Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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View From My Bedroom Wlndow The airwas crisp and sterile, and a symphony of miniature fowls stood atop a rusty iron fence and cooed eloquently, wistfully for their Sunday supper. Blankets of clouds culminated in a puffy linen white pile, then traversed elegantly across a placid lavender sky, making it look like an enormous, immaculate handkerchief. A gentle breeze lingered and caressed a love-starved tree, which stretched its eager limbs and received its loving gesture. Then suddenly a fierce envious wind stormed by, causing drenched garments to wave frantically for peace, while an array of clothes pins in their khaki uniforms stood at atten- tion and kept a close watch. As a passive sun subsided behind tall beige brick dwellings, a serene, celestial bliss hovered in the air. Birds quivered their inquisitive beaks for food and frolic, and bickered about their places on a defenseless tree, whilethe sun hid behind the accumulating clouds to avoid the contention. Maxine Lewis I Remember . . . I remember how it feels to relax: to lie supine on a warm summer's night undernerneath the twinkling stars, with the moon's beam stresming down on my face, the thick green grass cushioning my weary limbs, a warm breeze softly blowing, the tree's rustling leaves, as my body succumbs to fatigue, ready to sink into a deep, deep, sleep . . . I remember how it feels to get out of fresh water: my drenched hair releasing tiny droplets that roll down onto my moist face and slide down my neck, the slight tremor of my body when the open air and the water on my shin unite, making me turn and plunge back into the stream . . . I remember a beautiful scene: the horizon with all its splendor and magnifi- cence, ocean waves, mighty and furious, crashing down on the coastal rocks, then arriving calmly on the shore: the sun, that luminous ball of life, shining brightly above the earth and sea, slowly descending, joining, blend- ing with the other elements until they are gloriously one . . . I remember my favorite piece of music: quietly sitting, listening to the medley, feeling the mellow serenade rush within me, absorbing the words and chant- ing them aloud: dancing, spinning, leaping and singing, performing my own musicale . . . I remember laughing: the physical pleasure of feeling joy: smiling, glowing, laughing out loud, laughing until it hurts, pure amusement, delight, content, simply enchanted with life . . . I remember soft hair: lock after of silken curls, falling smoothly in my hands I remember a fender kiss: soft, moist lips pressing gently on mine. I am suddenly overwhelmed with joy, blissfully happy. I feel loved, needed and wanted. Roselyn Rodriguez And this is how I view my home. I have heard its many sounds and have observed it from its inner shell: yet now I experience it only through an old memory, a vivid remembrance of sadness, aged and distant in my mind: like worn clothes kept aside: the locked trunk of brass and iron. I hold the key to the trunk in my hand, the presence of the old, warm feeling in my heart. And I feel the love, the old love, bright as day, and glowing like stars, shining in my night. A small flame burns deep inside under the sadness of my memory, and the love still warm and tender. I turn at the key with anticipating hands, then instantly an illusion of happiness, an illusion distant but fresh and filled with pleasant thoughts of yesterday, of beautiful people, enters into my frightened mind - the lovely memory of my home in my heart. This I will always remember. It was soft and tender, like a kiss, like an unbroken promise of undying love. Lorraine Hall Why was I so frightened to touch his hand? Why couldn't I find the receiver when I longed to hear his voice? Why couldn't I hug him just because he was there? Why couldn't I cry before him when my eyes drowned in their own fiery liquid. Why couldn't I share myself? So what if he knows I care? The vulnerability will help me. It will carry us through the gates of where we both should stand. If I delve inside my trembling body and pull out the tears, passions and trepidations If I hand these to him unabounded. With honesty and a deep rooted sense of who we both are He'II feel. He'll feel my naivete for all that I know is inevitable in the long run. Only to chew a nail at every ring As the ringing was replaced by a deep resonant hello His voice perplexed me and shoved my courageous thoughts back into their dark, secure, surroundings, To awaken to the realization of a monetone buzz. Desiree Ayala 59