Page 6, The Cougar Cry, November 26, 1975
POETRY CORNER
CAROLINA RAIN
Carolina rain is falling down
On the roof a tapping sound
Puts me in a sleepy mood
Helps evoke the poetic muse
Windshield wipers steadily splashing
Lightning flashing, thunder crashing
The pavement is so shiny and wet
And the rain is falling even yet
Rainy days are nothing new
Sunny days are sometimes few
I must find something else to do
Like spending rainy ni^ts with you
Let me hold you in my arms
I will not do you any harm
Isn’t it better to be jolly
Than to be so melancholy
Rain is like the tears you cry
Stay with me here in the dry
There is sunshine in your smile
You ou^t to stay with me awhile
Rainy mornings need not be blue
Know my love for you is true
Feel no sorrow, feel no pain
As you are watching Carolina rain
Ron Wishon, Poet
A DITTY
I would if I could but I can’t so I
ain’t
I’m just a man and I will never be
a saint
I could if you’d let me, but you
don’t want me to
I will do what I can; what I can’t
I won’t do
Woman, why are you so stubborn
and so hard on me?
Don’t you know I’m only being
what one man can be?
And I can’t do the things that just
can’t be done
Though I’d try to do anything for
you under the sun
But I can’t so I ain’t but I would if
I could
And that’s something I want to be
clearly understood
I can do it if you let me, or if you
want me to
And mama, when I’ve done that,
I’ve done all I can do
Ron Wishon, Poet
DREAMS
attend yourself in slumber
to discover
the presence of your essence
disguised in antics
rushing merrily by
chasing
your tomorrow.
Mary Belinda Eldreth
TO THE MAN
OF A MILLION MINDS
0 man of a million minds,
star-gazing farmer
who thinks he may go to the moon
if the weather’s right
and money isn’t tight
next July.
You’re always planning dreams
and feeding on them.
Nearly choking sometimes.
You throw out those dreams
tJiat are hard to swallow.
Then, settling down you think
about how to make ends meet
from week to week
and planting a garden.
Earth child man, like me in a mil
lion ways.
1 know I.ll love you for a million
days.
0 man of a million minds,
1 could love you a million times.
Mary Belinda Eldreth
There is no “castle” of wisdom;
So why do you look in so many
wrong places?
The castle walls of any king may
fall
See you at the races.
Stony
A FRIEND
A friend is
(Ah! Heck I can’t put it
into words. 111 try)
So here goes;
A friend is:
A person you can give
half of a
“Tootsie
Roll”
A person you can read your
poetry to
(maybe)
A PERSON You can go to
a concert with
Hey! Friend will you please return
the picture of Marilyn Monroe
that I ripped off at your
pad at four o’clock
Ervin Waller
V.D. - AMERICA’S NO. 1 DISEASE?
STOP
VD
Did you know that Venereal
Diseases have become America’s
No. 1 infectious disease;, yet it is
the most treatable one? The Circle
K Club of WCC is now conducting
an information drive on Venereal
Disease. To get the n^al picture, go
by the desk and take a look. Don’t
be afraid; you won’t get it by
looking.
Robin Barber
Circle K Vice-President
*
* *
I TV.of. Moffsit -«
TrtlL0SO?ftV
• u-
The story which follows was sub
mitted to the Cougar Cry by a stu
dent in the College Transfer Pro
gram.
LIFE IN A DAY
This I beheld, or dreamed, of me
while camped on a high meadow in
springtime. Lush green grass grew
beside my cool mountain stream
and gentle breezes rustled softly
through the tree tops.
I arose at sunrise and looked into
the valley below. There I saw a rider
coming toward me from far across
the valley. As I set about my work,
I gave no thought to the approach
ing rider. There were many forks in
the trail he could take before reach
ing my mountain.
At midmorning, I looked again
into the valley below. The rider was
still coming, but far away. I looked
again at noon and was surprised to
see how far he had come in half a
day.
As I worked and played in the
afternoon, I took no notice of the
rider. Instead, I tried to find shelter
from the storm which had come up
on my beautiful mountain. My
camp was destroyed. The wind blew
down the trees. The rain overflowed
the streams, the hail beat down the
grass and scattered my herd in all
directions.
As I observed the damage and
tried to salvage something from the
storm, it was midaftemoon. At this
time, I looked into the valley and
saw the rider coming at a full gallop.
Il(‘ was almost to my mountain.
He was leading a grey horse and
was leading another grey behind
him. I also saw that he had passed
the last fork and was coming straight
toward me. 1 look(‘d for some means
of (iscapc; from this once beautiful
place which was now torn apart with
wind, rain, hail, thund(;r, and light
ning. There was no place to go and
no one to turn to for help. I turned
and faced the stranger who was now
upon me. There was no place to
hide, so I walked out to meet the
rider.
He smiled down at me and hand
ed me the reins of the spare horse.
He said, “Mount up my friend; we
have a long ride to make before
dawn.” Without a question or a
word of protest, I mounted the
bareback grey.
We turned toward the East, and
I followed the stranger into the
quietness of the night. As we rode,
I saw before us another mountain
where I could see soft ligjits and
hear the sound of sweet music. Off
to our left I could see a fire raging
in the distance. I followed my
strange companion as we rode
through the night. I never asked
him where we were going, or why.
I was just thankful to be away from
that stormy place where I had spent
the day.
At dawn we came to a fork in
the trail.
I could see the mountain above
where the music was soft and
sweet. I could also see, in the valley
below, that the forest fire was still
raging. Sitting there in the fork of
the trail was another rider, even
stranger than the one with which I
rode. My companion said, “With
him I will leave you.” He turned
and rode back the way that we had
come.
I turned and looked at the sol
emn, black clad rider before me. He
spoke not a word, but sat tall and
straight astride a tall black horse. In
his left hand he held an open book,
and in his right hand, a set of scales.
—P'ranklin Raymond Holden
9-1-72