Saltus Grammar School - Yearbook (Hamilton, Bermuda)

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and Poet ' s corner . . , Artist ' s gallery . . . THE PROPHET The cares of the world lie heavy on his brow. His sad eyes reflect the troubles of man. With penetrating eyes that can uncover man ' s soul, He sees both the good and the bad. His troubled face is tired and worn. The skin on his head is taut and colourless. He has a hook-like nose and wrinkled skin. Timeless, he is neither age nor youth. His eyes look out from beneath craggy brows. His hair and beard fall soft upon his shoulders. He looks with compassion over a frantic, unfeeling world. All his teachings can never change it. P. Clift, lb Crucifixion (from Salvador Dali), by M. Aubrey, 4k Dying, by M. Aubrey, 4k THOUGHTS OF CHUCK WEPNER I ' ve got to beat him, Yes, I ' ve got to beat him, I ' ve come all the way and a chance to be top But, I ' m not very good and probably not the best But I ' ve got to fight as though I mean business. I know I ' ll probably lose But before I go I ' m gonna give him a hell of a good fight. I ' ve trained day and night Jogged, woke up early, light breakfast Light lunch and supper. Look at Joe Frazier, He beat him. Do you see, Chuck, you fool, he can be beaten. So what if you lost your last fight? Who cares, you know that the higher he climbs, The harder he will fall. On the other hand, though, if you just Make all the rounds you ' re doing fine, But if you beat him, Wowee, that ' ll be perfect. You can beat him Chuck Yes, you can beat him. A. Van Beelen, lb

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This superb illustration, used for subsequent reproduction of all the various pieces of publicity material, is the work of Nigel Hendrickson. Mr. Kermode had chosen this piece of art as the best entry in a contest he had promoted specifically i for this purpose. ■ DRAMA 1 he departure of Mr. Galea last September left many wondering what would happen to the development of Drama at Saltus. In the event, the considerable theatrical expertise of Nigel Kermode has introduced a new dimension to the School Stage. His first major production, The Royal Hunt of the Sun, proved to be a most worthwhile theatrical experience. The play dealt with the brutal Spanish conquest of the South American Empire of the Incas. Mr. Kermode employed an effective blend Mr. Kermode gives theatrical tips to an attentive David Judah. Mr. Kermode explains his own interpretation of the script to Pizarro (David Northcort). of realism and illusion to create a very powerful and professional production which left us all more aware of man ' s inhumanity to man. The success of the play would not have been complete without quality actors. The leading roles, Pizarro (played by David Northcort) and the Inca King (played by David Judah) were very demanding — but these two boys gave admirable perfonnances. The narration by Mr. Dave Morrison added to the continuity and provided insight into the actions of the Spanish soldiers. The entire cast are to be congratulated for their fine contributions to the production. A play does not depend merely on David Judah as the Inca King. the actors: the combination of effective scenery, lighting, costumes and sound effects all serve to reinforce the impact of a play. In ' The Royal Hunt of the Sun ' the stage devices assumed great importance and without them the audience would not have derived - nearly as much enjoyment. The Royal Hunt oithe Sun has been praised by many. Mr. Kermode still demands that no credit fee given to him personally, stating it all be given to the boys, but everyone involved deserves credit, for this production will not soon be forgotten. Congratulations! Paul Maddern and Linda Noble (s.y.) The Royal Hunt of the Sun in rehearsal. (Left to right): Young, Parsons, Dunstan and Jorstad.

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THE FACE IN MY DREAMS Here it comes again — that hard mean face, That comes at night, when my thoughts are in space. No matter how pleasant, my dream starts out, That cold hard face, wakes me up with a shout. Will it come again? — yes, any minute now, With deep sunken eyes and a frown on his brow. Never a smile on his thin spiteful lips, And his great bulbous nose, just drips, drips, drips! Now it ' s come again — to give me such a fright, A face thats pale and ghostly, with hair that ' s dirty white. His expression ' s an evil one — I wonder what it means, As it comes to scare me in my nightly dreams. R. Stubbs, lb Aged, by M. Aubrey, 4k DISCIPLE His head is large, his eyes are small; On top is naught, below is all. The melting man I ' ve heard them say, A stalactite in full array. For his broad brow shines with the sun His beard slides down, a slithering snake. With age his cheeks have oft been damned The crisscross stitch-marks this portrays. For wrinkled is this old man ' s face, Weathered, tanned, rough. Long ago his massive brain, Forced out the few hairs that still remained. And swelled his brow to a size quite huge, ' til only the hair on his chin survived. And his tiny eyes which are sunk so deep, Could be barely viewed through those bushy brows. Yet, to the look he is but rough. But in his head is wisdom and kindness, The inside gentle contrasts his actions For although he is good he is zealous. J.P. Skinner, lb Hallowe ' en, by P. Clift, 1b FACES Across the street In the shadows of the tavern Lies a torso held in linear synthesis Face like a twisted branch on a beach Rippled out eaten smooth by the rollers of time. His eyes shake the soul As a madman shakes a dead rose. His nose is melting into oblivion As sharp to cut into your innermost thought His hair sways as a skeleton Stiff and white. Mouth like a rag with creases Of youth and happiness And later of age and depression. Ears ever-listening for a reassuring gurgle His soul slowly dying Creeping out of windows of life. S. Davidson, lb LOST LOVE Your wish for love is strong, How profoundly it must be felt, Reflected in your red-rimmed glassy eyes are The last moments of the past — Never to return. The grey sagging skin, Furrowed by dark lines, Expresses the fate of the love that you once knew. The deep frown on your brow, And strong sharp nose, Remind us of your determined but memorable life. Framing these expressions are silver strands of hair, That wisp across your sad countenance. Suggesting days gone by. C. Luthi, lb A SMILE Let others cheer the winning man There ' s one I hold worthwhile. It ' s the one who does the best he can; Then loses with a smile, Beaten he is but not to stay Among the rank and file That man will win some other day; Who loses with a smile. Grant Brandson. lb