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

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OAK LEAVES 1943 ROSEMERE BROOK WHERE XWE WADE IN THE SPRING AND SKATE IN THE WINTER THESE I HAVE LOVED The clop, clop of horses as they trot down a country laneg the smell after rain of a freshly mown lawng the motley crowds at a fair, all laugh- ing and gayg the soft spray of the salty sea and the foamy surf that the wind blows awayg the early screech of a circling gull at dawng the grace- ful majesty of oaks on a hillg the lonesome creak of a forgotten windmill as the breeze passes by with no thought to stayg great white clouds, airy and soft as they float above tall pinesg the warm friendliness of sweet hay in a loft, not caring how much you jump on itg th-e cool sparkling water of a brook in the spring when the wind blown fields are gay with swaying flowersg the crackling of wood in the fireplace and the calm atmosphere that goes with home. These things I love. N. F., '44, 19

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OAK LEAVES 1943 PINK APPLE BLOSSOMS AGAINST TURQUOISE SKIES AND GIRLS WITH HORSES THEY LOVE, MAKE AN IDYLLIC SPRING AFTERNOON. GLORY OF THE DARK My eyes grew dull from gazing at the sun. I lost its brilliant gold and all was black, So I will watch awhile a star That is the glory of the dark,- A gentler beauty mild and cool, To sooth my soul seared by ambition's Hame. JOAN PERRY, '43. JOY OF SPEED He stood on the top of a snow-covered hill adjusting his ski harness. With a friendly grip on his poles, he stooped a little and gave a gentle push. For a moment he poised like an eagle in flight, then shot down the hill into space. Wind whipped at his face as he swung his balance first to the right and then to the left, around the clump of birches and past the tall spruce. The wooden bridge flashed in sight to be left behind with the whistle of the Wind and a flurry of snowflakes. On and on, faster and faster, he slipped through the open bars of an old fence and glided on. Suddenly the hill flattened gently out, the wind stopped whistling past his ears, he glided to a triumphant standstill, turned to survey the path of his swift descent and after a moment's joyous long breath, he turned and started up the long winding trail. H. M., '44, 20