Rogers Hall School - Splinters Yearbook (Lowell, MA)

Page 17 text:

The Way My love must be universal Before it can be true. My heart must know all people Before it can embrace perfection. When l have stretched my resources to all the earth's corners, Then will l be able to reach the center of my life. I can love no one If l hate a single soul. How can l give all of myself to one Until l have offered a little to each. touch CINDY KELLER '66 The Significant Whistle Infernal racket prevails, As some attempt to mulfle the noise By covering their ears. To the Spectator-oh please God, Let my team win. To the Participant- May I do my best. The rule of fair play. or Trafhc clutters the streetg Some are fortunate to have cars. SHE must walk. Her beauty is noticed by all, The majority consent to whistle. Who can tell a book by its cover? or All aboard! Visions of far away heavens Excite the mind. A dream is a pleasure to have. or Stop my friend- Would you kill another? NANCY RICHARDSON '66

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WM, X 1 S f ' If ff , 655 i 17 ' f if-:e1rf a+'M , ,.A .L ,,,,- l ll I GV In Y. . ' 1 I Qffe e -. TTTTTT I I ff! I ' X ji 5 in X I s f fp 1 - 1 A J X ' - 1 . f W l f,,.,-.3 7454-L! gkrf da-'Xyf Society First Mutely I sat on my bed, Mother lectured on. Her words contained truths, yet I cherished my crime. It happened the week Dad and I were managing the house. Good old Dad unsuspectingly allowed me to spend the night in the bunk house Ca shack some distance from the main housel. As he removed the last burlap bag of decoys from my sleeping quarters, Dad muttered, I'll wake you leaving to go hunting tomorrow. Get some sleepg I want you up by 5:30 A.M. This altered my plans: a phone call to my associate and an earlier time for our meeting. I arrived exactly at 12:30 A.M., hid my bike behind the funeral home's un- shaven hedge, and waited. Though my green jacket was pulled tightly around me, shivers ran through my excited body. Eventually I heard my name whispered. I leaped up, grabbed my bike and cycled toward my lover. We smiled and started down the familiar yet dark road. Faster and faster, the wind ripped at my face and tore at my coat. I didn't care, a smile stretched across my face. Never before had I been this happy, A beautiful night, a bicycle ride, and the boy I adored! What more could I want? Maybe it was a question of trust. My eyes met my mother's gaze. Would she ever trust me? Wotild she ever believe it was just a wonderful bike ride taken with a wonderful friend? No. I guess not. The seed of suspicion had been sown, society forbade such actions. My behavior had been unpardonable, yet never had I been happier. I looked at my mother's pained face, it was important to her to be socially acceptedg therefore it must be important to me too. If she wanted so desperately to trust me, it was important for me to give her nothing to doubt. Yet that night had been so perfect. KATHY PEABCE '66

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Wandering Mind Wandering mind Rambles along dusty roads Trod by the feet of Unknown, Watches the surging sea Unlocking the door to Wonderous mysteries, Hears the voices of whispering Pines Telling tales that one would Love to hear, Up creaking stairs Into an attic which holds Treasures of the past. There a window looks Out onto a garden where Roses bloom so beautifully That the sight of them is overpowering. Subway doors slam Shut - all is quiet. Everyone is going home. The cold streets echo The sound of voices From people bustling about. Lazy summer winds whip The wheat to and fro Then . . . Reality, The mind stops and ponders. It will return again to All this and more. MARILYN AVERY '68 One Times One I, singular First person Me. Personalg My thoughts, My ideals, My loves. Things never meant To be Plural. JULIE BAK-ER '66