Lake View High School - Red and White Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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SUNSET When shadows are falling, And evening is born, I sit by my window So weary and worn. The blue sea beside me, The gulls overhead, The whole world is quiet, The sky's turning red. The sight I behold None finer I know The sun is iust setting The whole world's aglow. The haze of bright colors, The reds and the golds, Its beauty enthralls me As each scene unfolds. But deep in the distance The sun far away, Brings beauty at evening And brightens the day. Beverly Altounian 2A-I THE SNOW The snow is such a wondrous thing, It comes so gently falling down, It blows against the window panes And covers all the streets in town. lt falls upon the forest trees And buildings high and tall, It leaves a very lustrous scene Besides a hill or waterfall. The crystal flakes so pure and white Are falling all around, To cover everything in sight On top of hills or lower ground. It has a very lovely glow And makes you want to sing, But often makes you very sad When it disappears in spring. Norma Sanford 3B-2 HAVE YOU ? Have you looked upon an evening sunset that sheds its flaming rays of gold? Have you sailed the ocean blue with shimmering moon- beams dancing bold? Have you climbed the highest mountains where the peaks stand white and free? Have you seen a sight so stately as a great maiestic tree? If you have viewed these wonders, then your life is truly blest, So pause, and thankful be for beauty, peace, and rest. Beverly Jean Steike 3A-5 Since television has become such a large part of our modern world, the technique of make-up has become most important. THE GAME There's nothing quite so thrilling As a victory is to me, A time when all our fellows Famous heroes seem to be. A burst of sudden cheering Loudly swells up from the stands, As the boys appear out on the floor, The ball in able hands. Those uniforms of red and white Go streaking by to score, But through much hard and vigorous play, Their trimness is no more. As they guard all their opponents, As they race about the floor, The basket waits, above them, For our boys to boost their score. Hoorah! Whoopeel It's over! The victory's on our side! Our boys came through as they'll always do, All heroes, Lake View's pride! Donna Lenters 2A-2

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A Study in Mythology THE BABY-SITTER Seventy-five cents an hour, that is my rate, To stay with your children until very late. I watch little darlings, so good, so sweet, I strain their potatoes and grind up their meat, I put them to bed, read a story or ten, About the Three Bears or the Forgetful Wren. Some tear out my hair or poke my eye, And while I to the first-aid kit do fly, Knock over tables, lamps, and chairs, Push little sister down three flights of stairs. They scream in my ears, pound on my head, Holler for candy while Sue falls from bed. I can't do my homework, my papers they tear, Eat my crayolas, pour ink in my hair, Holler for water, cry for some more, Drink up half, throw the rest on the floor. Oh, yes, I'Il watch your children 'til late, A baby sitter am I, seventy-five cents is my rate. Luis Owano 4B-8 SEASONS Softly blows the breeze The scent of flowers bearing. Gently stir the trees- All their beauty sharing With the cloudless sky, Azure, calm, serene. While swiftly bubbling by, The brook completes the scene. The air is wet with heat, And never a breath of wind. The lush earth waits to greet Rain only heaven can send. Dark clouds blacken the plain, With flashes of lightning rent, A torrent of wind and rain And Nature's fury's spent. A world of brilliant hues, As gales tempestuous blow. Gray clouds obscure the blue, But reflect the glory below. The harvest time of earth, When Nature gathers her store. And all of beauty or worth Returns to Her once more. Bleak, desolate, windswept sea, Unbroken stretch of white, Save for a lonely tree That mingles with the night, Night with pale moonbeams That dance upon the snow. Aland of haunting dreams, While cold the North Wind blows Richard Lyons 4B 2 IMPRESSIONS OF WINTER Everything is white in the winter. The ugly, crooked fingers of barren autumn trees are covered with white billows of soft snow, and their snow-covered branches, silhouetted against the light blue sky, appear to be fine patterns of the most delicate lace . . . Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! -That's the sound I hear when walking alone, early in the morning, on sidewalks, covered with inches of white. The rhythm of my footsteps beats little phrases and songs to my thoughts . . . Did you ever wonder what power designed the lovely frosted window-panes you see each winter morning? Feathers of ice are strewn across the glass, only to melt too soon into droplets of cold, crystal clear water, that slowly sink out of sight . . . Harvey Rudotf 4A-6

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THE TOWER OF LEARNING A Tower, deep ebony against the star-frosted Night, Her age-old panes asleep, yet reflecting the fiery Ember Of Learning. And her many children passing by carry the Light Of Knowledge and Hope, and they pause . . . and remember. A Tower, bathed in snowy Moonlight, Standing supreme among her subiects, great and immortal In the hearts of children. And soon the Sun, radiant with Promise, will cast his aureate rays upon her portal. A Tower, unbowed, and reaching for the Skies, Her enduring Attainments unquenched, her Torch still burning, And the Sun, heralded by rosy Dawn, beyond the Tower doth rise, To reflect on the panes as the Golden Light of Learning. Donald Kanabay 4A-2 WHAT AMERICA MEANS TO ME The flowers of the land in magic array, With colors as lovely as the break of day, The trees as high and free as the birds, Too precious for one to put into words, The grassy plains of the western lands, The sweeping effect of the desert sands, A sky of such an azure blue As a sapphire with its brilliant hue, The quaint little farm with its clean white home, The proud, stately buildings where e'er you roam, The ioy of living in a land that is free, That's what America means to me. Carol Rosen IB-8 A Television Class In Action LOVE A boy, a girl walked through the park, Hand in hand they strolled, And laughed, and talked of many things, About their life, when old. They talked of love and marriage And how happy they would be, About a home and children Who would till their lives with glee. He smiled at her, and she'at him, For they were much in love, This boy, this girl, who through the park Walked, smiling, hand in glove. Joyce Lundgren 2A-I A MUSICIAN'S DECISION A world to conquer, a world to please, I have to choose iust one of these. The first to please myself alone, To have the pow'r of skillful tone. The second one is really giving Some ioy to those who are now living, To bring some sun in rainy lands, With music played by willing hands. l've made my choice and now I know That God will help to draw my bow, And always guide me as I try To serve this world before I die. Alcestis Bishop 3B-7 30