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P. 190
POEM
Rise
Upwards balloon
Skyward,
Float red and wonderful
Not bound by earth's malignant pull
Up, till your rubber lungs burst with the clean air of freedom.
STUART WEST, 12B.
DROUGHT IN THE BUSH
In the still hush of noon stand the towering gums, watching over their
kingdom — the bush. Not a murmur nor a whisper breaks the silence. Even
the bees have ceased their gay humming.
The once lush grasses are now lifeless and brown. Small clumps of grass
fight their way to existence through the cracks of the solid earth. The birds,
which once nested in the cool, shady branches of the green trees, have flown
elsewhere, seeking new homes. In previous times the creek bubbled swiftly
past. It is hard to believe as one gazes at the dry, stony creek-bed before one.
There is not even a gentle breeze to disturb the quiet monotony. The trees
droop their branches — ashamed to own their colourless leaves. It is time
for the wildflowers to bloom and beautify the bush, but they too. it seems.
are not eager to display their pretty faces and to fill the air with their fresh
fragrance.
It is hoped that one day some inky-black storm clouds will loom up and
break the disastrous drought. Each welcome drop of rain will assist in changing
the sorrowful scene to the succulent forest it used to be.
CHERYL GARRAWAY, 9C1.
Birth : A beginning and an end.
BEING
The start of life.
The end of lifelessness.
Life : The end of birth.
A continuous state of being.
The beginning of death.
Death : The end ?
Or is it the beginning of birth ?
JANETTE McCRAE, 1 IB.
“Cobbler" —Robert Moore, 12A.
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