1988 School Magazine

The message Holds me in its power, Fntranced, Lost ln another world. But now, without warning, A little boy Bursts my bubble. Screaming through the park, Shattering my peace, He jumps on the paper, Sinking it into the mud. In a small brown puddle The paper slowly drowns. "Dreams" is swalIowed By filth. Only a scrap Of yesterday's paper. Six letters. A word, No more. Why then should I suddenly Feel so sad? As though the clumsy boy, Not knowinB, not caring. Has smashed a magic palace Made of Nothing But dreams. "Dreams" I mutter bitterly, Kicking up the dust. "Dreams".

MRtrA&dS ln an untamed

Corner of the park, A newspaper flutters In the breeze, Sunning itself ln peacef ul oblivion. On the back page, Next to the comics, Ab,ove the Super Sunday Crossword, The adveriisement Shouts "Let us make Your Wildest Dreams Come True". A scrap is torn off And freed, it floats away Across the park. "Dreams" It says. Just the one word, "Dreams". Dreams, Gliding U npertu rbed Over the rubbish in the park; Broken twigs, Crumbling leaves, Cigarette butts, Empty wine bottles. "Dreams" Says the paper, Skipping lightly Over the rubbish, Unsullied by what it passes. Our dreams Dance daintily over The f ilthy truth

Samantha CIarke (1-l)

Of the world, Borne by the Breezes Of life And chance. Our dreams Know no limits, Whirling around As they journey

To wherever They may go. Strange, that a scrap Of newspaper Could mean so much; The freedom of unchained lmagination, Winged unicorns,

Magic dragons, Glorious light, Happy endings, Undying love.

ffi

t;,:+i:i:;:;:,:tiji:i!:ltt;VtlrW Melanie Flaskas (Year 10)

64