Reading Memorial High School - Pioneer Yearbook (Reading, MA)

Page 15 text:

THE PIOXEER PAGE ELEVEN THE WILD MARCH WIND The wild March wind rattled my door, And whistled around the eaves, So wildly he shook my shutters, I thought myself threatened by thieves. And then I knew ’twas the March wind. He’s not one vou should fear, He comes to tea quite often About this time of year . I opened my door and curtsied low, And said with my coziest smile, “Come in, March Wind, and have some tea And sit around for a while.” In came the wild sir March wind, And sat in my big wing chair, He took his pearly cloak off, Smoothed down his wild dark hair. We had some tea and muffins, And some golden marmalade, And talked of the foreign places, Where the wild March wind had strayed. “I never stay in one place long,” Said he with a windy smile, “I really must at once depart, I’ve been here quite a while.” He gallantly kissed my finger tips, While I made a curtsy low, I said “good-bye” with real regret, For I hated to see him go. RAIN Pitter Patter in the lane This is the gentle springtime rain Calling forth the flowers sweet To cast their fragrance at your feet. A rumble, grumble thru th e morn Comes the summer thunder storm. With flashes bright and husky roar It speeds it way across the moor. Splitter, splatter on the pane This is the dampish Autumn rain. Making mud ’bout two feet deep That oozes clinging round your feet. Hurrying, scurrying in the blow This is the month of sleet and snow ’Tis only the rain arrayed in white To make dark winter seem more bright. Spearshaker II THE CASTLE YESTERDAY There’s a misty isle of memory, some¬ where in the ocean wide, Where I shall sail in my ship of thoughtfulness, with no one by my side; On this isle of gentle friendships I would be content to stay, And in the midst of lost illusions, build my Castle Yesterday. I’d have a garden of flowers, And many woodsy spots Filled with wild-rose bowers And blue for-get-me-nots. When we were young, The song of life was sung; But, now that song has died away, Yet, perchance, the echoes linger in my Castle Yesterday. Jeanne Else ’31