North Bay Teachers College - Polaris Yearbook (North Bay, Ontario Canada)

 - Class of 1968

Page 106 of 120

 

North Bay Teachers College - Polaris Yearbook (North Bay, Ontario Canada) online collection, 1968 Edition, Page 106 of 120
Page 106 of 120



North Bay Teachers College - Polaris Yearbook (North Bay, Ontario Canada) online collection, 1968 Edition, Page 105
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North Bay Teachers College - Polaris Yearbook (North Bay, Ontario Canada) online collection, 1968 Edition, Page 107
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Page 106 text:

REBIRTH The season of rebirth is here, And at this time of year My soul is free, It is restrained by no man-made barriers, But'soars through heaven's heights As a lark in her ethereal castle. And then my soul discovers countless new universes And plummets through these uncharted vistas, I am free, free, free, I rejoice, I laugh, I shout for the worlds to hear, And my echo careens, reverberates from one planet to another. From my pinnacle in space's vacuum, I survey mankind through my cosmic microscope. How petty, trivial, are the worries and conflicts in which he is so engrossed. How ludicrous this miserable vermin appears, I-Iis foibles are the ultimate absurdity. Swarming, teeming bacteria. The season of rebirth is here, And at this time of year My soul is free. Spring zephyrs on a mellow spring day, Balmily blow against my face And stir my dormant winter limbs until The chains, the weights, the agonies that encumbered them Are cast off and fall lifelessly to the ground. Injected with a potent spring tonic, I am free now to fly with the wind, To raise my heart in song to the heavens, To shriek like a madman. I am free now, to lie on the grass in a wooded vale And to smell the good earth, The damp black earth which gives life to the living-- And refuge to the dying. For one fleeting moment I will be free And then, to my cell I will return, To be its inmate, for perhaps all of time. Susan McGruther Form 8 THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER Remember the early misty morns when shadows stretched with gentle touch across us both asleep. Time stood still and waited on us in those days: and nothing feared we in our youth. Remember the golden afternoons warm and lazy, bent o'er coffee cups together. We argued long and sometimes loud but loved the whileg and nothing feared we in our youth. Remember the happy hour we walked hand in hand, across the moonlit sand and laughed. The moon and stars smiled down on us. Time was oursg and nothing feared we in our youth. Two foolish children. We should have known that life waits not- it cannot, must not check its course for any man! How young we were, how much in love! Time slipped away- and took with it our youth and love. Susan Bamber Form I LOVE'S MYSTERY When asked to express her love for him She tried, she honestly attempted: It is sharing everything and more, It is missing him when he's not there: It is being proud of all he doesg It is happiness with streaks of sadnessg It is so very much that It is unexplainable ! But inside she knew. Linda Anne Lauzon Form 7 MEDITATION A breeze murmurs softly in the desert, where the warm sands shift and toss in restless slumber. And there, Far away- - my mind glides aloft with some winged creature, God-sent from the timeless bowers of Paradise. Here lies my body in this human labyrinth-- trapped tight within the curbs of custom and culture-- guarded only by eyes too eager to see, , , lips too quick to destroy. In silence, my heart beats to the flesh, while my mind uncovers long-buried secrets and walks in the paths of Kings. Marjorie Boyce Form 3

Page 105 text:

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Page 107 text:

ATTESTATION OF A MAJORITY OF ONE When They cries out the need for more, more, more, I count my wealth of family, friends, and happy memories. When They sighs about the insignificance of one short life span, I think of the lifetime I have to rejoice for each day, When They shouts the horrors of war and race riots, and then sits down: I hear the words, Have we not all one father? When They practises free-love and infidelity, I remember the pure true love I share with another. When They wallows in alcohol and drugs as an answer to problems, I give thanks for my help in time of trouble. When They weeps for our decadent society, I whisper the story of hope--the first Christmas. They says that I am too idealistic, I need to open my eyesg I say that I have seen the Light. Kenna Iohns Form '7 CHECK THAT LIST, MYRT The door of the dusty blue car opened and a tall man unfolded himself from it. He took out the car's ashtray and knocked it against the gas pump. Korn chips all you want? llYeah. ll A car hood slammed somewhere. From the darkness of the big garage door appeared the mechanic dressed in greasy green coveralls and wiping his fingers on a piece of old underwear. At the approach of the attendant the gaudy-shirted tourist looked up from his ashtray, D'you have any Korn chips? Nope, sorry, don't carry them kind. Windshield? At this point the mechanic took from his hip pocket another piece of underwear, slightly cleanerg with this he quickly swabbed the windshield. A woman's voice from the ear belatedly shrilled out, Like the ones we got in Vancouver. Oh, yes, Vancouver, says the tourist, Vancouver, lots of interest points there, Yessiree, we couldn't stop long there of course. We've been down through the big timber, Ever seen 'em--like Redwoods. I think I liked them best of all. Gosh, it took us the better part of a day to pass them. I'll take six bags. We need a lot to keep us going the rest of the day. We won't be stopping till IO p.m. 'Bout how far's Lethbridge from here? Mister, I don't carry Korn Chips! Lethbridge's 'bout IW61lty'S6VCIl, twenty-eight miles northwest of here. There was a tone of finality here. Twenty-seven, eh. Got that Myrt -Lethbridge. Myrt pushed two sticky blond children back from the window and retorted, l think we 'did' that place already, dear. I'll check the list. Yeah, daddy that's where they had all those stinky oil wells. Yes, Rick, it's crossed out. We've been north . . . There was something in the expression of the mechanic standing with his arms akimbo that suppressed further utterance from her. The tall man, equally irritated at the idea of having to speed along for the next four hours without food, wedged himself back into the car, slammed the door and revved the motor. Well, must be getting on--have to stick to schedule if we're going to 'do' the provinces in two weeks. The engine roared and the car sped away engulfing the resigned mechanic in a choking cloud of dust, The dust gradually settled and the sun dazzled down strongly as before. The mechanic knowingly peered up the road at the quickly receding car. He said more to himself than to anyone else, You meet a lot of folks like that, 'doing' the provinces in two weeks. They call themselves tourist. They never really get out of their own back yards, Kathleen Proud FOIIT1 9

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1985 Edition online 1970 Edition online 1972 Edition online 1965 Edition online 1983 Edition online 1983 Edition online
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