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Page 24 text:
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NOSES A nose Is a funny-shaped piece of flesh that on some people, such as ancient Greeks, dogs and prize fighters, looks like a piece of badly modelled clay thrown from a distance. It sticks out from the rest of the face like a hitch-hiker ' s sore thumb, and, therefore, the nose is the part which gets cold and wet first. It also has a tendency to become overripe and look like Rudolph the Reindeer ' s nose. Noses are what usually get pushed into other people ' s business; they also tell us what is cooking, or that the rendering plant has been doing business lately. The noses also tell us of many other interesting odours. Another use of our nose is keeping the nose specialist at work, for where would he be without colds, hay-fever, etc.? And last, but not least, what would the people who wear glasses do if they didn ' t have a nose? You have probably noticed that noses come in assorted sizes and shapes. Unfortunately only a few of those pert turned-up noses, that men so like, are around. Don ' t forget the hoclcey and football nose, which most of the boys have. Secret admirers like this particular type also. Then of course there is the roller-coaster nose, the bumpy nose, the ski - nose and so on forever. In fact, people could be identified by their noses instead of their finger-prints, because everyone ' s nose is different. Vive la Nez. Carol MacPhail , Grade 12. SECRETS Have you ever watched a fire as you sat In silent darkness And seen its glowing coals and brightened flames That look like tiny fire-flies all gathered together To form a warming, whispering fire and a brave bright light? I have, and I ' ve seen each little flame flicker and glimmer. Struggling for life, for just one more breath Of God ' s clean sweet air, and just one last look At the wonderful room in which it was born. Flames remind me of people. Big roaring flames Are just like people pushing their way about, and Little peaceful flames are like small meek people Over whom the big people walk. And the embers. Of Course, they are the dying and broken spirits; But how beautiful they are, being content To let the others take over and do their work. And how cheerful the noise of a fire Is! Lovely crackling logs and snapping coals That brighten and die, and die and brighten. And then the fire goes out. Just like that. And no amount of coaxing will bring it back. But then the next fire would never be the same. Because they ' re all different, just like people. Mary Harper, Grade 12. -22-
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Page 23 text:
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WAR NIGHT How silently the lake lies Within its bed of gold While far away a loon cries Its tale so sad and old. The stately pines are whispering Of olden days gone by. As, like a mighty guardian. The big moon mounts the sky. How beautiful the rocks look! Spreading like a floor They pillow little wavelets That come tumbling to the shore. I love this time of wonder, I love its moon so white; It doesn ' t matter where I am I ' ll always love the night. Margaret Bird, Grade 9. TUNE OF THE TIMELESS TRAMP Keep whistling old man, for the day may be long; Keep the smile on your face, in your heart a glad song; Keep your eyes to the road through the rain and the dust; Keep whistling old man, for a song is a must. By the brook where the wavelet is spanking the shore. By the bird-house where songs from its portals do pour. By the mill with the waterwheel covered with rust. Keep whistling old man for a song is a must. Where the cross roads meet, and the fine dust is flying. Where the bulrushes sway, and the wild geese are crying. Where the wind and the rain have been there with a gust. Keep whistling old man, for a song is a must. A song is an ageless sign of content, A song notes the happ ' nings of a day well spent, A song keeps in man, the wandering lust. Keep whistling old man for a song is a must. Suzanne Eckel, Grade 12. War brings on death, A sleep with no peace; A war breathes no breath Till dying has ceased. Its bitter arms stretch. Folds more in its grasp. The more fertile the catch The stronger the clasp. The war wages on With fire on its breath. All godliness gone Only strife for the best. There are hopes in the world That we will see peace. But a war breathes no breath Till dying has ceased. Suzanne Eckel, Grade 12. -21-
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