REMINISCENCE Cecil Cragun From the height of Rocking Chair summit, I stepped across the chasm of departed time, Into a world of yesteryear, where reel by Reel unfolded a picture of my youthful climb. In which I walked a thousand miles and more Along white sands of uncharted shore, I looked into the azure blue and soared To heights of untold ecstasy, in rhythm With a deafening, pounding, throbbing surf. I held within my trembling hands Culmination to life's dreams. The world was mine Utopia within my reach; Then like the erring mortal that I am I let it slip and fade into stark reality. Back to a dreary toilsome world Where dreams don't long exist, And reasoning stamps her ugly foot On beauty's golden promise. Oh now as I retrace the steps The shores seem dark and lonely. Each little curve along the way Holds forth in memory only. I trod the way, one thought in mind, Will e'er I walk the shores again? Perhaps some day in a distant land, Once more I'll tread the snow white sand. 26 THE COLORING BOOK Gerald Chadburn The red sun burned purple streaks in the evening sky and seemed to etch the breeze through willow trees. I walked barefoot on the velvet grass of the park and curled my small toes. I didn't care for sunsets and trees for I was only four and my feet were cool. I didn't know the month or day or year. All I knew was the lily dotted pond where frogs and other creatures of the deep played. I had an intellect made of nursery rhymes. I told them to the yellow haze of dawn when the white sun fondled gold peaks. In the morning the park was a coloring book, painted with green, and brown, and blue. The pond smelled like a garbage can of rotted fruit. Yet the pond had frogs and fish. With short legs, I would jump our picket fence, (for it was only a small white one) and run to the blue sea as the sun winked through the trees. 27