FOG I like fog Sometimes cold SometimeS'Narm But always penetrating. Fog is friendly; It seems to close about you And cuddle up» The fcg gets thicker And thicker And 131') 3.0103!“ And finally the fog Begins to form into little drops And rains start to fall; n-L. David Hanson .7—
NOW LISTEN! Ybu tell me I am a sinner And sinners need a Savior. You haunt me till I am one of the fold. Or until I am too weary to heed your call. Then you would tell me I will never see life twice» How can I heed when you are not what you shzuld be? Never mind—«I'll find Him on my own. —-Paul J... Show moreNOW LISTEN! Ybu tell me I am a sinner And sinners need a Savior. You haunt me till I am one of the fold. Or until I am too weary to heed your call. Then you would tell me I will never see life twice» How can I heed when you are not what you shzuld be? Never mind—«I'll find Him on my own. —-Paul J. Jensen .6- Show less
SKETCH UPON RISING Between the dawn and the sunrise there's a pause, when one can sit upon a hi11.in the city and View it, absent of its filth and selfish compactness; when one can see no more than the staoatto outlines of roof- tops, piercing the early light of the day; when one can breathe the... Show moreSKETCH UPON RISING Between the dawn and the sunrise there's a pause, when one can sit upon a hi11.in the city and View it, absent of its filth and selfish compactness; when one can see no more than the staoatto outlines of roof- tops, piercing the early light of the day; when one can breathe the morning air and taste its freshness, not yet polluted by the rising dust of the day; When one can listen and know that a respect for sleep- ers is still upon those who would make noise. But then the pause is gone and with it the apparition of a city without filth or selfish compactness. From the net of streets and avenues the dust rises, churned by speeding vehicles; and from the chimneys high a disrespectful smog de- scends to meet the rising dust from the street; the taste of the air is dry and chemica1--its freshness is no more, and respect for sleepers disappears, and the day song of the city starts its crescendo. Yes, the pause is gone. . . it is day in the city. -nArthur Anderson Show less
PERSPECTIVE Here, sitting so close to this wall, I see only a stretch of blank plaster. If I could move back I might see the window And the dooro uéFlorence Eblland
0 LORD! I WANT TO BE RIGHT Why do I laugh, when I want to cry? Why is it dark, when I crave the light? My only answer is my own sigh. O Lordl O Lord! “Won't I ever be right? Why do I sing, when my heart is low? When the earth is shaded, why is heaven so bright? Why do I stumble down the road I go... Show more0 LORD! I WANT TO BE RIGHT Why do I laugh, when I want to cry? Why is it dark, when I crave the light? My only answer is my own sigh. O Lordl O Lord! “Won't I ever be right? Why do I sing, when my heart is low? When the earth is shaded, why is heaven so bright? Why do I stumble down the road I go? 0 Lordfi 0 Lordfl ' Wen't I ever be right? Give me the vision, 0 God! I cry. Let me see your heavenly light. Help me, Lord, to answer the why. 0 Lord: 0 Lord: I want to be right: -LeRoy Conyers -3- Show less
HANSON, .L. DAVID (continued) ThemightoOIOOIoOOOOOOZ'r Reflections on Rimsky-KorsakOV'. . 43 HARRISON, JEAN The Young Lion o o o o o o o o o o Strong Ybung Love . . . . . o . . o 9 SIDOkeJ o o O o o o o I o :- . Q I o o 014 o o o o o I. o o. o ; o o o o The Star 0 o o c o o o o 6 o o o 28... Show moreHANSON, .L. DAVID (continued) ThemightoOIOOIoOOOOOOZ'r Reflections on Rimsky-KorsakOV'. . 43 HARRISON, JEAN The Young Lion o o o o o o o o o o Strong Ybung Love . . . . . o . . o 9 SIDOkeJ o o O o o o o I o :- . Q I o o 014 o o o o o I. o o. o ; o o o o The Star 0 o o c o o o o 6 o o o 28 Thoughts'While Looking Out to Sea 0 34 CYCle o o o o o o o o o o o O o o o Spring and Love 0 o o o o o o 0 O O 42 HELLAND,FL0RENCE Perspective...oo.oo..oo4 WG-Wander as in a Dust Storm 0 o o 10 Freedomoooooooooooo,0018 On Making Change for the‘Wealthy . 29 Alone.......oo....o.35 JENSEN,PAULJ. NOW'LiStenoooooooootcoos Poem.......o.o.‘ocgocl5 The Existentia1.Awareness } . . g o 30 JOHNSON, BERYL Ignorance and Knowledge-. 0 . . o o 33 POGMQoooooooooooooo37 Rejections-o.0000...;041 Escapist's Prayer . . . . . . . g . 44 OSTREM, GLORIA The F001iSh f p ' ' 9 9 9 I, g g WW_ind-oop! a”, ’9". 31 v RAZOOK, PATRICIA onItLOOIoouooooo‘uooom Show less
INDEX BY AUTHORS ADAMS,PAT Goodbyeooooc.000060023 ANDERSON, ARTHUR L. Sketch Upon Rising 0 o o o o o 00:. 5 On the other Hand; 0 o o o o o 0 o 25 ANDERSON, KEITH Winter MOOdS o o o g o o o o o o 36 Winter Wind 0 o o a g Q o o o o 36 BERNTSEN, MAXINE CIOUdS at Dawn ‘ o o o o o o o o 1 81:53.33 0 o... Show moreINDEX BY AUTHORS ADAMS,PAT Goodbyeooooc.000060023 ANDERSON, ARTHUR L. Sketch Upon Rising 0 o o o o o 00:. 5 On the other Hand; 0 o o o o o 0 o 25 ANDERSON, KEITH Winter MOOdS o o o g o o o o o o 36 Winter Wind 0 o o a g Q o o o o 36 BERNTSEN, MAXINE CIOUdS at Dawn ‘ o o o o o o o o 1 81:53.33 0 o o o o o o v o o o o o Stars (NO. o o o o o 0 o o o .20 TO Love Enough o o o o o o a o O 52 Tree in Winter a o o c o o o o o 38 CONYERS, LEROY O Lord} I Want to Be Right . o o 5 Evening Guest? . . . . . o o . . .12 Night Passage . on . o o o o o .39 DEEM, DARLYNE Wise and Loving G‘od . . o o o o o 8 TheProudMan... .. ... 0.16 SpringReturn. o one .00 004:5 HANSON, L. DAVID Fog o o a o o o o o o o o o o o o HOTSGS o o o o o o o o o o I o o 13 Summer Meadow o o o o o o o o o .47- Show less
THE YGHNG LION (Dedicated to L. David Hanson) The young lion paced back and forth at the foot of the mountain; He lifted up his voice and he roared into the wind, Mountain, you stand with the sombre strength of black granite, your head bared to the clouds. Why do you not understand that the gold... Show moreTHE YGHNG LION (Dedicated to L. David Hanson) The young lion paced back and forth at the foot of the mountain; He lifted up his voice and he roared into the wind, Mountain, you stand with the sombre strength of black granite, your head bared to the clouds. Why do you not understand that the gold I desire exceeds the tree on your bosom, the stream bursting in air-spun profusion from your brow. I see no sacred fruit on your cursed tree, I see no cooling solace in your wind- swept crags. Mountain, roared the young lion, bare your golden bosom to my eyes; Tremble, mountain, yield granite crags and let me touch with my fingers the fine golden veins of your bosomd Crack, mountain, roared the young lion, let me find solace in your secret streams. The mountain neither trembled nor moved. The young lion paced back and forth at the foot of the mountain, The strength and chastity of the black granite remained, And the young lion roared into the wind. --Jean Harrison -2- Show less
