Northern Arizona State Teachers College - La Cuesta Yearbook (Flagstaff, AZ)

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LA CUESTA 1930 A SOLDIER'S REVERIE I wonder, will the lilacs bloom again When spring comes back with bursting bud and leaf ? And will the mounds, so newly made, be covered With soft, green grass to heal a nation's grief? Will shell-wrecked villages, deserted streets, Resound once more to notes of peace, content, Or will they sleep in ruined glory still, With moss and ivy by a kind God sent To ease the wound, to heal war's jagged scar? This world made desolate will soon forget The horror and the awfulness of war, The pride Eve paid-the price we're paying yet! A million hearts were broken, tears were shedg The ground ran gory with our youth's life-stream. We sacrificed our lives, we gave our all, And yet how soon 'twill be as but a dream. Men will forget, earth will go on the same No better for the sacrifice Eve made, 'Twould seem, and yet perhaps our goal was reached, Perhaps some great disaster has been stayed. Yes, lilacs will return with coming spring To fill the air with fragrance as of old, Then love will come to mend the shattered hopes. Earth will again be rich with living gold. -Berdena Baxter One Hundred 1' ty-eight

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LA CUESTA 1930 MOON GHOST ' fReceived third place in the Bushby Poetry Contestj If I gaze upon the moon At night, at dark midnight, I will pray of it a boon Through light, its crystal light. That I may see again her face, So white, so wistful white, And hope that it may keep its place In light, in growing light. In truth, I will not let her go, Delight, my dear delight, To glide with morning's dawning glow From sight, my straining sight. But even as I gaze she fades. I light, a frenzied fight. In vain. With dawn, night's fleeing jades Turn white, a hopeless white. -Rita Herman One Hundred Forty-

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LA CUESTA 1930 IMZPOTENT Black, moonless night descends in awful Darkness there where mighty waves Pound out incessant rhythm on sandy shore, By rocky cliff. The power of God is there- Fearsome yet beautiful- There in that pounding surf, In that ever-moving, ever-pulling tide. Dawn breaks- Storm softens- Light of new-born, glorious day Falls upon the sand-across the rocks- Across the body of a man. Man- Conqueror of earth, of air, or sea, Lies conquered- Impotent. -Margaret Allen IN WONDERLAND A mountain-climber, proud and hale, The San Francisco Peaks to scale I started walking well and fast But, ah! my pace could hardly last. I stopped to rest and breathe, and gazed Ahead and up. I was amazed. The Peaks that seemed so friendly nigh Now looked most strangely far and high. Great pines stood strong amid the snow- I felt so small, so weak, so low! With drooping head I turned away Across the desert sands to stray. The burning sun, the blazing sands Blistered and scorched my face and hands. Suguaras stood serene and grand- How small am I in Wonderland. -Anne Gilloghly Reagan One Hundred Forty-n