Viscount Bennett Junior High School - Terminal Yearbook (Calgary, Alberta Canada)

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THE TERMINAL LITERARY SECTION PAGE 89 JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL - POETRY SECTION. FIRST PRIZE. LONELINESS In a dark desolate alley A small child, lost, A lone sparrow, left To endure winter in solitude. A marathon swimmer, striving In the bleak, dark water. One lone flag pole, left To stand guard in the midst Of a sleeping village. A desolate plain, untouched By human nature. Fresh snow with only Animal tracks to show Life still exists. A huge ocean liner, Merely a tiny speck On the dark, vast waters., A foreigner, standing alone And repelled by native people Unable to speak and commute. All this, and on to infinity: Loneliness! WENDY LAW (9 - 16) SECOND PRIZE., . | Collapsed on the floor with one leg on , a chair i Sprawls a real cool cat with bleach blonde hair, : Clinging to her shoulder a telephone receiver Chatters on and on like an eager beaver, The disc-twirler ' s booming with a real gone beat, ! On the T.V. set ' s a Western - real neat! : What is she doing? you may ask ; Why, she ' s working hard at an arduous task, | Busy at a duty she cannot shirk, i She is loyally engrossed in her homework! THIRD PRIZE. NIGHT Drowning the last of daylight Darkness creeps over the mountain; Dimming the sun in final fight It spills upon us like a fountain. H y Except for the wandering moon.. Surrounded by twinkling stars, The lights in the homes had vanished soon In this city of countless cars ' . In deep slumber the earth flow lies All sound has left the air; Filled with enchanting dreams time flies While I its wonders share. Drowning the last of darkness Daylight creeps over the mountain Swallowing the moon with its golden brightness It spills upon us like a fountain. HELGARD WENZEL (9-1) LAURIE FINKLEMAN (9 - 16)

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The terminal literary section page es JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL - ESSAYS (Continued) SUCCESS Op BUST respect,, integrity, and confidence; hard honest ' work is irreplaceable. With a roadmap of intelligence, I ' m sure you ' ll find your way. LAURIE FINKLEMAN (9 - 16) THIRD PRIZE. GOOD MORNING It was soggy. It was a yellowish . colour. It was messy. As I gazed into its heaving, writhing depths, my mind wandered away . Sebastian and I were trying to cross it. : There was no way to get out of this ; wretched chore, and we were compelled to ■ do it. The.sugar mines lay all the way on the other side. Slowly we picked our way along, hopping from lump to lump. Once I missing a foothold we would be sucked down ■; into the gruesome interior, never to see : the sky or breathe the fresh air on a | calm summer day. Suddenly I heard Sebastian scream. A ■ pitiful, heart-breaking, back-chilling ; scream that ate into my very soul. As I ; hastily scrambled over the slimy, wet : lumps, I nearly fell in myself. ' When I I reached him, only the tuft of his hair : that always stands up on end was visible, i I grabbed this last part of him to be i sucked under and pulled the gasping, | exhausted creature out of the mess. As we were both resting on a lump, Sebastian frantically shouted: Cornelius, save yourself! Nowhere could I see. any danger until I looked up. , Descending down upon us was a horrid monster that somewhat resembled a spoon with dripping fangs and bloodshot eyes. I think I fainted when I saw ' it, but Sebastian says I didn ' t. All I remember was that it landed on our lump and submerged it.. When I heard its shrieking ear- splitting cackle and felt the slushy, sucking sound closing in around me, a horrible nausea swept over me. And then-just as I was beginning to be conscious of.the fact that I was losing consciousness - a familiar voice rasped in my ear - - Cornelius, if you don ' t stir that porridge a little faster you won ' t have any for breakfast. I shuddered . . . MARSHA SAUNDERS

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THE TERMINAL LITERARY 1st Prize. SONNET jWe are like pebbles, dropped into a pond, iTo splash, make tiny ripples as we sink :Into the dreaming depths, our every link With life dissolved, we plumb the vast beyond. ‘There is no lightless bottom, thick with slime, ;Of ages, where the sunken spirits rest. Or countless strata of the damned and blessed. The pool is.floorless, shoreless, timeless time. ;For passing years and seconds are the same jin number coming, and therefore in size Without reference point which is the end iOf struggles in short life for love and fame Or breaking of the silence with the cries ;0f fierce, proud peoples, forced to bend. JOHN OWER (12 - 29) 12nd Prize. A student you ask? I am, But studious - no, not I And the small card I hold Will prove that. On it was placed, with ;Noh-disputable correctness ;Many markings not uncommon [To other,, similar leaflets, But discouraging to me. First is seen a D which If compared to my country iMeans not, what it means to iOne such as I. •To me it means dull, but Let me compare this card jOr rather transfer it to The boy.Canada D on his card could mean :Denied. Denied the right of way In nations of the world disputes. Denied the voice a country .I Should have . . . especially one his size. C would mean, on this report, jCalloused. Farm work, Lumbering : And all the other manual tasks :Performed within his boundaries. Calloused hands and calloused hearts, : But with the callouses went Experience he ' ll use in later years, jNext a B for beginning which Is all he is doing now Beginning, but what? . . a country ;Strong and safe or ..... . SECTION .PAGE 88 Perhaps his other marks will direct His footsteps in a path. Following now two A ' s ' ' the best so far. One for ability, which he hopes he has And the other for aggressiveness, which Indeed he has for the advancement of His large, learning land. One left oh the card, an H For honour which follows from all the rest And all the others not touched upon. Denial , Calloused, Beginning, Ability, Aggressiveness, and Honour. Each of the people in this Country has a task. As I accept the card back I know mine As a student. I must By aggressiveness and using ’My ability, regardless of hard callouses, Make a beginning at defeating the denial And bringing honour to my country. That is my job.What ' s yours? PHILIP EADIE (11 - 2?) 3rd Prize. THE ST. LAWRENCE I am the St. Lawrence River. People say I am proud, serene and majestic. I was born with Canada, And I am part o f this great land. I have watched Canada grow along my banks From the Atlantic to the Great Lakes. I saw Cartier and Champlain Explore and establish Canada ' s first settlement. I watched as Louis Hebert first tilled The virgin soil. Then more French boats sailed Upstream through my waters, Carrying settlers to colonize The New Land. The French built Quebec With her proud citadel on my cliffs. Then I saw English sails on my waves. One night I watched silently as Wolfe ' s men Scaled my cliffs at Quebec, and fought On the Plains of Abraham. I saw Montreal, Quebec, Trois Rivieres, and other settlements Grow into large cities. Factories were built on my banks and bridges spanned my breast. Large boats carrying wheat, iron and many other products, sailed downstream From Duluth, Superior, Port Arthur, Fort William.