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

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OA ,., K LEAVES 1950 i 3' xy HN 0 I 'bllggf' i.. A RUN I A nw. 4343! - ' 'T 9' rom Our Q QNX r. Y' mam E uv' My 9 iw- E 1 I Fr? younger Rams rx A' 0:1 QA!!! .. 'V f 1 I . . , SPRING My heart is filled with happiness, My being free from care. In my radiant soul all joy and peace And happy life dwell there. The world with love and gayness turns The Winter into Spring! She enters in where love-light burns And dead souls Wake-to sing! CAROL KRUEGER, '52 C. Q. SORROWS fApologies to Longfellowj Tell me not in mournful numbers My C. Q. is only Ten , For goodness in one slumbers, All I can do is try again. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the Ten List is not my goal, If I am bad, I dost returnest And my conscience gnaws my soul. Fifty Listers all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing leave behind us Medals in the C. Q.'s of time. SoPHoMoRE CLASS 23

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, ,b gi, ,. , A ,ww ., ol.-A-ska.-+-udibnidlwa.-ieil . .:.- ...' , OAK LEAVES 1950 TWILIGHT The lake lies shadow wrapped, Misty and blue, Slim trees bend over it, Shining with dew. The wind goes dancing by- Hush! Can't you hear How it goes singing by? Twilight is near. YVONNE BRET, '52, MY LOVE My love is in the far-off hills She runs a-wild and bold, My love to seize is out of reach, In vain I'll try 'till I am old. My love has blue eyes dark and deep, Her high sweet singing taunts me 5 I love her, yet to no avail- Her soft warm memory haunts me. She rides upon the whistling winds She dances in among the treesg Amidst the storms and sleet and rain Her graceful being swims with ease. I sit alone to watch my love- A far-off pleasure to me denied. Her laughter echos from the plains. How cruel of her from me to hide! CAROL KRUEGER, '52. MY SUNSET I call it my sunset because I felt that I -was the only living person on this earth. It was like a fairyland. The glistening beach beneath me wet from the pounding surf which lay just ahead, the ocean was rough from a recent storm and the waves dashed upon the beach. The Sun was sinking slowly and as it moved it traced a golden pattern across the green waves. Then, as if by magic, the billowing clouds gathered to make a slow white throne for the approaching sun. As it touched the waiting clouds they were transformed to a golden throne where the sun set like a king proud and grand. As the sun rested there, all things seemed to stand still, the pound- ing surf, the crying gulls and the battering wind. All seemed waiting for something. Suddenly their expectations were fulfilled, for the sun and all the surrounding earth were flushed with a glow of beauty as the sun slipped below the horizon bringing the calm and sweet repose of night. ELISE PITKIN, '53. 25