1971 School Magazine

A fr,f,,iuen

fr"uury?

Die, young man! Your time has come! Brave you were; yet weak- For, like the rest, You will perish. hoduct of our dear land, why Must we, you and others, sacrifice For such a thing as this? Communists?

" Love-warm affection, qttachment, Iiking or fondness". . . . "Iilhut the world needs now," An inexpressib le sensation, All the people in the world could not descibe it. A yearning, a satisfactton, The warrnth of brotherhood, Ihe strength and intense secuity of peaceable lands. Love is only inexplicable Because we have forgotten its meaning. "Goldie", VIB

Think, young man! As you lie in a haze

Of your own red und this world's grey- Do you reull the hours you used to spend

In a hammock in the run, The nights without end-

You there, sinking in the mud, Shedding your Australian blood, Was it worth it do you think? Too late- !

Sue Skinner, VB

'oinsettiq

Red. . . A clutter of red petals like a bunch of rags on the end of a drooping stalk. Green . . . The foliage crowds the fiery flowers'on the rod where they hang limp. Yelbw. .. Dry dmd leaves ftom the buoyant branches ffutter down to the pavement. Grave .. . No wind and the Poinsettia hangs its head in solemn thought. Elated. . . Bobbing and tossing of red and green on thin elastic boughs.

.,""*rlTr*ffifn:1'T Why do we struggle to capture with words, moments which only the ministry of silence can praise: exquisite moments of quiet friendship, deep, deep happiness which dwells in the house of teari, one timeless moment which was ours! Lead-winged words cannot hope to frame such moments, and the meaning of an experience simply cannot be caged. Then why do we struggle, when it seerns ahnost profane to tell of such moments as whispered of a reality beyond this dimension, of ultimate sweet fulfilment? Because if we can net with our mere words just a shadow of that moments' magic, its glory will never be lost to us, its message never erased.

M.C.IVD

Anonymous,6B

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