Weymouth South High School - South Yearbook (Weymouth, MA)

Page 14 text:

now that we ' re here and not so good now that our today this everywhere we crow about is still dirtyfaced and knohbykneed and bad bad boyish (no matter how sweef or low our dewdrop music dares to swing) we have a man . . . alive and shivery new . . . and more dusty and scraped than our hands have ever needed other hands to worry over rumor says he ' s been to hell and back and then back once more with roses brittle as promises to show for it believe it it you have to. gossips stitch and hem and hum a line or two that he knows the names: first last and the one in case of emergencies of every intown carnival barker and their private kewpie dolls go ahead, swallow what you need to. lonesome (and do i mean lonesome) sidestreet knockabouts psst psst and whisper a shrill wish of maybe that he is the salesman the jolly just-in-time man that we all have been waiting for and that he holds the jokes to help us feel less like little boys and girls well, if that ' s your only gospel, mister, then sing it (but sing it to yourself) we are still poor tip-toe c hildren we have heard too much and we through need and a little scaredycat will send a prayer or tell a lie or sell our soul for a dime ' s worth lust to hear a happy ending for once to watch an honest hero in the midst of our poor parade. while old men die lame unsatisfied and unforgiven the saviours that they would surely crawl to watch and grow old companions for a lifetime and while we watch and wait for falling stars and tidal waves there is a waking miracle a gift of love who makes mistakes and has learned to stumble and fall gently. no one is that faraway he is with us- and grows hungry with us. and passes by and eats and drinks and grows just a little tired just like us and watches and waits just like us he is with us as close as i am to you. alan follett 10

Page 16 text:

a tear took hold and washed all our faces until we were young angels again alan follett we wander through the carnival searching for our ride we ' ve strolled from end to end in final desperation we ask a man directions the man answered quietly, the tunnel you say? ' why the tunnel is long gone. no one used it. but wh o needs it there are better rides. aren ' t there? valerie hogan ultimate switch if i were you and you were me, then, we, to each other would be drawn by curiosity to see me as you and you as me . . . karen nilsen it descends like the north wind, it is soft like white angora, it is harsh like biting cold, it is happy like children ' s laughter, it is sad like a helpless orphan, it is wonderful and awful, it lies within us all, it is needed by every living creature, love. doreen di tullio a notice . . . dear friend, we have come quite a ways and though we change and split our paths we did have great times which probably will fade as so does old snow on a young spring day . . . i see those events, as a speck comes to my eye, as a child sees his aunt, before she dies. i ' ll take all those memories, and lock them all up, by putting them in my past, and there they ' ll remain shut . . . all those years, and the times we spent, but when you ' re young, you ' re much the same, but as age seeps in, you see things different . . . you ' re riding some dreams, which aren ' t so soft, you ' ll just have to learn by mistakes. i ' ve watched all this, and i ' ve tried to help, i ' ll just have to visit your wake. i can say no more, i have said enough . . . do your so-called thing. so goodbye old friend, i hope you learn, before you hear the angels sing . . . yours truly, a friend jonathan vickery the coaches words s k a t e skate, skate skate, skate skate, skate skate, skate ok, you can rest now thats a long enough rest skate, skate, skate, skate. Stephen wrye you don ' t have to go as far as Vietnam to view man ' s inhumanity to other men . . . john maclaren 12