1982 BGGS Magazine

5 Long Years, Marking the seconds with the black gearing of the squat yellow timers in Chern. The minutes with the dour cluck of thick Roman numerals. The hours with the tolling of the bell (that persistent electric reverberation) and thanks that Donne was so right. The days with the in-out blue bag like a film played backwards and forwards over and over again till the Media Monitor gives up and leaves. The weeks with Maths last and first - and gossip in lessons six and two. The years with the rich honeycombs of holidays that plunge us into lotus-eating and picked us out like flies out of amber. Some day I will wallow in Golden Syrup . Kathie Jeays . 12 L.

You came without a known word, quiet, dull, yet quickly when begun. you: time, hated time and longed for time. Now your waves splash my beach oblivious to the erosion, the waste and decay; And though you blame me for misuse a waming, a sound was all that was needed to weaken your strength, to cement my sand, and hold back shadows that like the night, threaten to engulf

hopes and dreams . Wendy Lees. 12 E.

f ~.

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