POETS
CORNER
Sunday, Feb. IT,
. MY SON
Your parents live (or
you
My son,
They work and work til day is
done,
All they do is for you
My son.
All the tears are well worthwhile:
And they always have a smile for
for you
My son.
So be. thankful you are theirs,
And as you climb the stairs
Thank God for them
My son.
Be strong and loyal as you can
Make of yourself a man,
For they love you
My son.
IfcratoanilSetoiS They'll Do It Every Time
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more.
Take heed to opportunity at your
aoor
Be valiant for their sake
My son.
Then when life is o'er and all is
done
They'll smile and say,
My son.
DESPOT
The lion must kill lor his daily
fare,
But the despot kills by creating
despair.
He waves his arms with his jack
ass bray,
Of how he will rule the world
some, day.
He boasts and boasts of his pies
in the skies,
And his stupid ilk believes his lies,
He rules his domain with an iron
rod,
And tells his litter, "There is no
God."
But his house of cards that he's
built on mud,
Will come tumbling down in a
sea of blood.
But for him, this unholy human
shark;
Not lucky like Noan, there'll be
no ark.
He's the kind that a four-fooled
striper would scorn,
This inhuman scum, oh why was
he born?
Harry Vogtman
SYMPHONY
The errors in our vestrrdava
which cause us deep) rezrcl.
If we but could correct them be
fore our sun has set.
But the laws of diversity aie end
less in their ranae,
And knowledge of thete errors
made arrives too late to
change.
For hie is but a symphony, the
chords of which we build;
The sound of several notes we
strike of which our life is
filled.
Some chords are cherished mem
ories, some grouped with woe
and pain,
We wish tliat we could live our
span all over once again.
But the score of life will surely
end the chords so overlapped,
A seemingly eternal void, its mys
teries still untapped.
Harry Vogtman
OREGON
Of all the stales I've lived in.
And that is quite a few,
I The one 1 like the best of all
Is Oregon, I do.
Here we have beauties
Of sea and mountains high.
Lakes, rivers, fertile valleys,
And many of them close by.
In our beautiful Klamath Vallev,
High up in the fresh mountain air.
We have a climate hard to heat
And sunshine so height and fair.
Our fruiiiul lands are cultivated,
Although it seldom rains
For our irrigation system
Makes of the grains and potatoes
lane.
There is beauty, work and pleas
ures
In this great state we claim .
There is ever life abundant
In our dear Oregon, by name.
THM
TO MARY
1 have (Jie nicest neighbor.
Mary is her name.
And after every friendlv visit
I'm alwavs clad she came.
She lias a generous heart,
nd loves her fellow man.
Whenever I'm around her
I want to he kinder than I am.
When I observe the eood thirds
That make up her personality.
I only hope that 1 can be
Ine frtend she's been to me!
Margaret Wan eh
THE VALENTINE SECRET
I'd love the big red box
And the pretty ribbons Inn,
I'd lne the erv thought
They came from someone like ynu.
Rut the contents aien't in my
daily diet
And lor a slender young miss.
The present I'd better seille (nr
Is a sweet valentine kiss.
hOVT HOIK HANDS
BARNSTAPLE. England itpn
The North Devon Hospital man-
a:omcn! cimm;ttce has asked
married mirv to remove their
rincs while on d.itv because of
"the dancer of spreadn.g infec
tion. . . "