1969 School Magazine

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*d**du d,d*e* $C*epdes 'pon willow;y furred stems, Drowzing fields utith opium scented. fumes. Yon dazzling hues, like gerns Deep burnished by the glowing orb. Globed blooms, wit/t haunting charm Drooping'neath the fragrant noontide ltaze Repose in magic calm. Steaming lcelands, in hushed ecstasy Float, lull'd in blessed maiesty. Sceptre like swaying gracef ully Stately Flooded Gum, Veiied nobly in the blue-grey haze of dawn Stands silent; giant limbs outspread, Acknowledging, IT, a king uas borrc. Croutned in sea-green leaues Fire-tipped, by beams shot lrom the blazing sun Which, rising - arches - hangs aboue In hallouing splendour, 'loft the Gum. Regal Eucalypt, Pure uthite and stark 'gainst sky of aiuid hue, Which heralds close of day: soon swathed, Sltimm'ring in the early morning deus. - ROSLYN McNAUGHT (VIA) ry&" J{**{ - ROSLYN McNAUGHT (VIA)

All over her blank face run the oddest little Iines that crease the soft pink and white flabbi- ness. There ate more of them round her bloated neck than anywhere else, though those round her eyes are etched deeper into her mottled flesh. Maybe ,that is why she keeps scratching them there, though all that ever does is rnake hEr dull, tired eyes more blood-rimmed and watery. The raking fingers are browner than her face, b-rt the-y .have the same queer little lines cracking thern, flaking off curling bits of paper skin. Thev quiver convulsively, rather in the uray her liF s tremble as she tries to catch the saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth. But you do not know her. You are seven- teen and loving it. Life is a zingy froth of Coca- Cola spilling round you onto the sand of a long summer's duy. You stand in a shimrner of heat, throbbing, throbbing in the sound of a beat, feeling free and young and living. You have no thought that you will grour like her when you, too, ate old, and nobody cares. For she is one of the unseen ones, one of a hidden, helpless people that wither ^way, that rot, and decay the fruits of their summers long ago, in loneliness and poverty. She is one of the useless, the unwanted, the half-dead. Nobody cares for her. You did not even know she existed. did you? So, now you know. S7hat can you do? You can hardly suip the stain of the sun from your limbs and lend her pallor your glow. But you can Iend her your youth. And suddenly you find that all the summer in her has not ebbed away. True, the fruit is crushed, but it yields rich wine. \ilfhen you share your growing with her, you gain a potent draught of distilled maturity spiced bv your ov/n vigour. You will grow more as she draws on your breath, As she wakes again to her old life, you will share two summers' - KA'E GRAysoN (vIB)

The gallant stag stood by the lake His eyes utith fear rDere bright, The baying hounds had run him doun- He had to stand and fisht. And yet they moued not by that lake Althoush the moon tDas brisht - To all tbat pass, tbey're frosted glass Put in the pub that nigbt.

_ JANET STERN (IIID)