Kentridge High School - Accolade Yearbook (Kent, WA)

Page 108 text:

Like a still lake with a surface clear as glass which reflects the trees and all which surrounds it, l can recall in the mirrors of my mind, those memories so very dear shimmering on so serenely not really pondered but quietly waiting to be remembered. Ruth Tressel 104 MEMORIES Sandy Kemp Morning mists, the smell of wood smoke lost spirits searching far away the honk of geese pirouetting across calling out in harmony. the stillness ofthe lake. Sun hiding behind clouds. Air is laced with Anne Acheson

Page 107 text:

A child spoke without words, She sang without a song, She drew a dark valley to cry out pain. She spun rny head through rivers other mind And oellered out pain. She pleaded for love with a pen and paper. Searching for the sounds to hear the words to speak. Within a picture she said it all. A child spoke without words. Cindy Brueske lonce had a friend We were very close. We shared our thoughts and our emotions. But then l moved away. Far away. Although we tried hard to keepin touch, it seems as it we 've drifted apart. Now that l arn back we once again enjoy sharing our thoughts. How good it teels to have a friend. Kate Doelv Susan Shorten MEMORIES 103

Page 109 text:

SR' 'L Ta wee McLeod Does the river stop flowing when everyone leaves? Do trees pause their growth, when we do not see? Do the splashing waters still echo when no one listens? Do stars still light skies in an empty forest? Will the forest become lost in time, if no one is around to watch it? l hope so because l wouldn 't want such beauty to be wasted. 'Wh-Q wish. Tawee McLeod , '1F3 ti it Silently we 're drifting apart like the waves and the shifting sands. ln comes the tide and briefly it stays, but then it once again departs, washing everything away, Nothing is left, not a trace of what once was, once again the shore is smooth to wait until another print is placed in its obscure grayness just to be washed away by the swiftly flowing tide. Ru th Tressel Cindy Brueske The waves are unique when looked at one by oneg Yet all appear alike when viewed as a group from a far. Each striving for their own goals and destiniesg Yet all arrive in the same place, in time. One may be better than the one at its side, Yet all quietly vanish, unnoticed by the rest, The waves are individuals during the lifetime in which they exist, Yet they all die as one, in the world of many. Connie Kirsop MEMORIES 105