1971 School Magazine

'Wo, qnJ 'P'*"u A bearn of sunlight hltered through the ru-stling leaves of the old, oak tree, resting on a shght fig-ure seated on a mossy stone in the centre of the glen' Her face held one int-ent, yet serene look as she carefully shaped the blossoms jn her lap -into ^a. chain' Long, *in^aing locks fell onto the bare skin of her shoulders, a wisp"of it drifting now and then across her fine features. As a bird nearby uttered its joyful cry, her lips broke into a smile and she stood, stretching her lovely young form to its full extent. Yet on the other side of the world, the sounds of battle rent the air, and cries of anguish chilled the blood of all who heard them. The war raged on' A young soldier lay on the ground-near the trench he iraa iirst left. Blood was selping from a deep wound in hi's right side and his ashen face was taut from the seering iain. Darkness was drawing {, a-nd the sound of figfrting lessening. As the dust settled around him, the ;ldie; prayed one last prayer before he gave his life for his countrY. Morag McDonald, IIC

,H'ppy 'P"op{.

The line of your face was crisP, yet warm against the cold, greyed lamplight on the patterned grass. I watched with a strange contentment that I had known often with you. The man was moving to us with the staggered steqs that far too plainly spoke of his condition- Tinges of fear drew me to You a little closer. He stood still, Yet still moved and spoke quite loudly into our faces' "Youare Happy PeoPle!" His only mate had gone. The man's bulk moved awaY just as his own mnte had once moYed. I felt the contentment within me crumble and flicker, because you are HapPY PeoPle. I've got a bottle of wine here."- The rounded form showed benbath the thin coat that covered his chest. -"But my wife died . . . " You and I: we were no longer joined by the same contentment. But together we watched the mnn. I thought a lot, and we spoke a few simple words. l'le had to run from the place together. and rise up once again. But the man came back. "You are Happy people! I won't let them hurt You

Lino cut, Mary Williamg IIIC

Amanda Greaves, 58

bestitution

Dried rivers of salt crack off my face; Death comes not easily to those who ask for it. My life-wasted, an empty broken shell, My mind infer tile - b lea che d ; Yesterday, today, tomolrow-an ever-rotating gyre. Time immortal, so large, Life so alive and yet so dead sweeps tiny people before it. Does God forgive those who realize their mortality?

"Goldie", YIB

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