'/

' rp'rofessor‘asked' fortheir opinim'of the poem.

(he student pronpted, “It's about the best writtal poem that's been read in this class yet. " Alvin's head grew eVen bigger. ~

The professor nodded.

"I Was inpressed with the form and structure of the‘poem," offered anofl'aer‘stuient. Alvin's head continued to balloon. His eyes

were the size of oranges.

His hair rivalled the

thickness of an uncut lawn. No one had yet

noticed this ,.. however.

"I'd say," (Included one student, "that this poem should be published. " The boy's eyes swept the class to assure hineelf that this was the

general consensus .

Even Professor Wheeler seemed

to agree, Everyone turned again to look at Alvin. ‘ It was then that they noticed his head. i ' "My God," whispered me girl, "I never realized

his head'was so big. ..." -

THE UPEI SUN, Thursday, Nov. 1, 1979, page ll

fall these days. Looking out my window, I can't help but bubble over inside at the priceless calculator of leaves. At the sane time the sun tingles the, leaves and a sweet nectar draws fall bees for their last kiss of nether nature's bountiful sweetness.

Now a jet wails overhead and seems so nan-made and tinny in wcmtrast to the soft, soft, domey thoughts which have carpet- ed ny surroundings. A great floodlight of colours

leads my enotions to the

gentle, gentle thought of

just being here, alcne, barely hearing the tid<ing of my watdi, yet grasping frantically nentally to drink in all nature's storehouse and showroom.

A gentle breeze comes and the whole stage changes completely. It reminds

me of our thoughts. As the wind blows so our opinions, beliefs, and thoughts of love, constantly change like beautiful leaves and a few words can influence a nation.

The class watched in anazement and awe as , Alvin's head ocntinued to expand. It was about five feet acress, and to be stretching to the

Time - like tiny cobwebs of the dew: each day a scintillating sparkle

lindt° 2 Poems V "He's always been a little weird you know," by only said me girl knowingly to the professor. Wheeler \ to t sat his: eyes bulging‘alnd his mouth open 1:215 o . . "Is he (11 drugs or sometl'z‘ing?" askedHorta'I. Debra LaFrance b11V10n ‘ Wit-h omsiderable effort, Alvin turned his atduSk

head survey the clxs. When he spdvce,his voice seemed to edlo forever inside the cavernous sphere. The somd which finally escaped was weak and distant_ I /.' i _ .

"I'd ' /.',...‘like to thank.‘..everyme here. . .everyone here. . . .for their . . ." -

me boy said a little too loudly, “Oh yeah, Alvin, itwas a great poan!"

Alvin'seyes widened fearfully.

"Ch \ _ ' ,

His head grewvand- stretd'n‘ed‘a' little bit more, but it had reached its "

"Great poem, Alvin. . . . ."

The casual meeting of windows to ~ yourself— » One open and glowing, the other shuttered and dark.

The hesitant smile hovering on my lips— receives a cold stare and stern unmoved mouth. So my timid venture fades through the closing '

Alvin'sheadcouldtakenonorearfiitexploded

alloverthe roan.

R EFLEXIONS OF AUTUM N

by Ed Orlowski I,

Mien I look out the window, the 5111 is lazily enbracing those sugar wanes. I then perceive what and why tle poets get so excited about » _ these glorious days when all nature seems to be in full magnificence. so, that we are alnost forced to notice her

lovely panorama of exquisite _

colours. .

All" of our senses seem to be heightened ,to what __ nature really has to offer. Our eyes seem tofall in love with notl'er nature's gifts.- ,. .

. Rainy leaves are flutter— lng down to kiss nether earth and'as [I‘look down

at the little red sodden maPle, from my window in 3rd Duffy, it seens to ne that the tree has dropped a beautfiul rosette of

leaves Sobeleeta

So mud)"

that it contrasts vividly

' with the Irish green grass.

If I were having a picnic, that's where I would want to have it, right there in the midst of that apron of leaves! It looks so I soft, and I like sitting on 9 soft leave$. , ' .

Oh! I see the fingers of the hands .of the/branches

which have begun to point I

'as-thewindblowsthem. 1

They seem to say, "I'm getting ready for winter,

' are you?"

The rain has stopped, the wind has dried every— thing off, the leaves have lost their "wet" look. and there is that beautiful, beautiful, red-headed mqale creature, as ‘

. ravishing and as full of

life as the eyes lodting at, her. And yet she has a silent beauty beyond this pen's conprehensicm I believe we are riding

Window

to shut out the frost.

TO PERI CENT STUDENT 1. DISCOUNT

UPON PRESENTATION OF STUDENT I.D.

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