Mitchell College - Thames Log Yearbook (New London, CT)

Page 120 text:

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Passing on the road, Pondering fog draped over the pond. Deep, considered action of the cool, dark blue. Mind lingering as fog over thepool. t Seven slighted women ' in the house of ill repute. The tide is comingin covering scurrying, sad sand crabs. The night of total darkness, the eve of the new moon. No shadow's spongy self Patterned anywhere. Quiet. 4 - The whining flute of a distant owl. Calling prey within. Sliding, splotchy fog 1 of dank, unrevealing hue. a ' ' g Dark serenity of passing and past thoughts of what might or had been. This is the mind of a clown. The crown - of jeweled jester bells. Parted by tender kisses Y and last touch of hands. Saddled by glorious thoughts by man's dictions and convictions. Pulsating life through love of mankind T is further best by that which we stand. The conclusion being of the health we almost had. To cringe in stroven-for ecstasy in a bound and determined way. Nevermore is it to be again. I weep no more. a For what was, isn,ti + ' What to be, it. t The ending of shore, senseless phrase. God welded - all the names. , Ronny Marshall 7

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Known Not of . . . Known not of the wares of mortal bliss, My heart lies dormant In the shadows of creation. That if, stepped forward, I should remember The castle I lived in in, past existence. I holdithe joy deep within my mind. Slowly breathing, partaking of the wind. I stand flushed - in the dome of existence When once my life was theirs. Sorrowful tears of joyous sadness Flowing furiously and yet gracefully. A mountain stream. In a flurry of flowers s it dries out to A vacuum of hopes. To be there. Stepping swiftly. I soon find myself running. To search out the shore . of my mind. I wonder to where it may be. To fall upon it I may see - I've been there long before. ' . A dainty crescent of love of the wildest shares And all of the wares of mortal bliss. ' . Ronny Marshall 9