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

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OAK LEAVES 1945 THE OLD SHOES The old shoes lay On the dusty floor, And they knew that they Would be worn no more, For their tongues were parched And their heels were sore. Then they heard a noise From the great outside Far away, The Boys! We had better hide- They will kick our leather To bits ! they cried. The boys came in Picked them up, and rang And they hung the shoes On a grey sedan, And in the car, Were a girl and a man. Then the shoes were pleased, for they knew they were to bring good luck on a wedding day. J. ALLFREY, '48. SUNSET IN THE ALPS The boy glanced at the sky and then whistled. From all sides goats came running up and butted him playfully. He laughed and pushed them awayg then he turned and ran down the narrow mountain path which led to the village. As he rounded a curve in the path he stopped in breathless Wonder. The snowcapped mountains which surrounded him on all sides seemed to be burning with some unseen tire-glorious, beautiful. Far below him in the valley the roofs of the village were gleaming in the last rays of the sun. Somewhere high above him an eagle screamed and flew back to its nest. Even the goats were still, realizing perhaps for the first time, the beauty of the world they lived in. The flaming red changed to rose and then slowly faded away as the wind among the Iirs echoed its immortal music. The last sunset colors disap- peared from the sky. The boy walked very slowly down the winding path to the village. ' SHIRLEY BROWN, '49. 30

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OAK LEAVES 1945 MOHAMETT Far beyond the garden walk The apple, the wild cherry tree Mohamett, King of cats Watches yon bumble bee. Then a zephyr blows Bringing to Moham's nose The scent of a stranger On the garden path. Then rises Mohamett Sure in his wrath To catch the stranger On the garden path. Quick in his anger Swift as an acrobat He leapt in the air After the rabbit So brown and so fair. The small rabbit screeched- Leapt from Mohamett's reach. Mohamett then charged At the rabbit at large. The rabbit's now gone. The rabbit's now dead- And Moha1nett's fine glory Has gone to his head. ELSIE NORRELL 49 HOPEFUL If I were a little yellow birdie And a little yellow birdie were me I'd Hit my little yellow wings And fly out to the old apple tree. I'd sit awhile and Hit awhile And sing just one song more While the poor little yellow birdie Was scrubbing the kitchen floor! 32