Oak Grove Coburn High School - Oak Leaves Yearbook (Vassalboro, ME)

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MY STAR AND I I saw a single star last night, Set in a sea of blueg OAK LEAVES It glowed like a gr-eat white diamond, On velvet dark as the night. That star and I, We seemed to be together, For I was lonesome, too. I wondered if that star was blue, And longed for company, And then the moon came out, And chased the clouds away- I was glad to see that my star Wasn't lonesome now. JEAN CAMERON, '42. 30

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OAK LEAVES FRCM OUR YOUNGER PENS A PASTORAL SYMPHONY The twin peaks of Dent du Midi beyond the Rhone valley are bathed in the rosy glow of dawn and then a great ball of fire suddenly rises above the sharp jagged peaks of the mountain back of our little Swiss village that is tucked away in a remote Alpine- valley. On this particular morning, busy, chattering women with large and full brightly colored skirts, bustle about filling the market-place with a cheery din and carrying large baskets under their arms or on their heads. But above the friendly greetings is the clear echo of church 'bells wafted along the valley, calling the simple country folk to their matins. Strong and sturdy Swiss men with heavy, muddy boots are trudging toward the fields. Wrinkled old women, worn from years of hard work, are carrying heavy baskets of clothing toward the fountain in the center of the town. Here the pure water from the mountain stream flows through an old pipe and here the good-natured housewives scrub with zest their rough, homespun clothes. Small dogs are playing in the street while boys and girls with school bags swinging over their shoulders are on their way to school, calling to the dogs and laughing gaily as they hurry toward the little wooden schoolhouse. As the peasant farmers drive their ambling, mooing cows along the street the bells that hang around their necks to prevent them from getting lost, are tinkling sweetly in the early morning. Small boys are driving fiocks of goats and sheep to the pasture for the day. An old man with a long white beard is sitting on the wooden steps of his ancient Swiss chalet that has a picturesque balcony jutting out above the door. The sills of the balcony are decorated with gayly blooming plants that give an air of sweet contentment. The old Swiss is whittling clever little figures and souvenirs from Wood and arranging them beside him with real pride in his craft. The apple trees with their mass of pink and white blossoms are like great bouquets scattered along the valley, while the fields are carpeted' with masses of bloom in great patterns of gold, white and blue. There is a faint echo of yodelling from the mountain tops and there is fragrance on every breeze for it is Spring in the Alps and there is beauty everywhere. NANCY GATCHELL, '41. 29

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OAK LEAVES BIRTH I know not why the song Of one small bird Should fburst my heart with joy But early in the dawn This one light song Far sweeter even than a laughing waterfall Fills my soul And overflows, in bubbling effervescent happinessg Yet this is poignant gladness For Nature now Is giving birth to Spring And I must feel her pain To share her joy. 1941 GOD'S GIFT Early in the morning As the dew drops lightly fall And settle down on grassy hills And flow-ers large and small, I sit upon my window sill, And look at all in view, And watch th-e sun rise bright and red. God made this world for you! And early in the afternoon When the sky is a lovely blue And the clouds are sailing overhead And the wind is blowing too, l walk along the wooded path Beside a bubbling brook And list-en to its murmuring Like a story from a brook. And early in the evening As the stars are twinkling bright, And the moon is shinging o'er us Like a glowing lantern light, I think of all that nature is, And how it paints each view For each and everyone to love! ' God made this world for you! BEATRICE RAYMOND, '41 51