1982 BGGS Magazine

'·.

CAKE AND BISCUITS Dot your eyes and cross your teas endless gossip over cake and biscuits solve th e problems of th e world over cake and biscuits shred to pieces someone's life and drop ) he pieces in the tea (adds much more flavour) someone else's spice of life over cake and biscuits everyone's life but your own .. . cross your teas and dot your eyes. S. Warren, (10 Griffith)

{This is when my family and I were in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in America. In winter, in the morning on the radio they would have whether or not your school was accessible. Snow Days are days when you don't go to school but s tay home instead. (That was good!) These days are made up at the end of the year.) Wint er had come. Waking one morning in below zero temperatures, I pulled the covers over my head, making myself as warm as possible. The alarm clock in Mum and Dad's room went offa few minutes later and I slowly got out ofbed. Eating some porridge, I turned on the radio to listen if we had a 'Snow Day'. It said our school bus would come that morning. Trudging up the hill outside our house we discovered the road, trees , dead leaves, evel'ything covered in about seven centimetres of ice. Pure, hard, wet, slippery ice! We were frightened. We kept slipping and slipping and once I remeber I slipped and just manqj{ed to hold onto a tree trunk bent almost in half with the ..iieight of the snow on its branches. Luckily I managed to get out of the way before the snow fell onto the very spot where I had been. The school may have been accessible but our bus stop wasn 't. Kimb erley Kitching BD

TERROR AT FIVE As I walked through, A scrub, harsh and unwanting, I felt th e raw wind, Whistle down my spine. Bleak as the grey day was, I quickened my f ootsteps for home. Branches tore at niy shirt, As I clawed my way through the bush. Paths unfamiliar hightened my fear, My heart beating as I gasped for breath. A light overhead, I peered through the trees, Sunlight penetrat ed my cold and dark world. My heart uplifted, I hastened on, Hands outstretched, my despair now gone. A loved voice raised my anguish, I answered the call. Margaret Ireland, (8 Eng. )

76