Words & Verses 1958/59

1958 Magazine


Snow falling, thick and white;
The reindeers’ bells are heard;
The village is covered quite,
And hungry is the bird.

All’s frozen, bleak and cold,
The trees are bare and dead
Till summer, strong and bold
Shall wake them in their bed.


Leslie Morgan 1H


Dicky stepped into the road,
Looking for his hat.
A car came round, without a sound,
And left him laid out flat!

Now had he played upon the kerb
Or kept his little head,
The cat that was lovely white
Would not be coloured red!

So Mums and Dads and Grannies too,
If you’ve a child of seven,
Be sure to keep them in your sight
Or they’ll end up in heaven!

John Lawrence 1H


One day as I walked in the lane
It started to pour down with rain,
My feet got so wet
I was sure I would ge
The Asian ‘Flu over again!

G Cockroft 1B


A famous Professor called Hill
Invented a wonderful pill.
But no-one could taste it,
So he had to waste it -
It’s in his laboratory still!

Derek Avis 1B

A Ghost Story

It was five to three on a Wednesday afternoon; at three o’clock I had an appointment at the office of Messrs Barker, Thompson and Smith, a big firm of wool buyers. It was an appointment for an interview about a job as an office boy there. I was to meet Mr Smith, the other partners being out of town on business.

As I walked up the long flight of stairs to Mr Smith’s office, I paused in front of a mirror to straighten my tie and comb my hair. Standing outside the office, I wiped the perspiration off my hands and screwed up courage to knock on the door. It was one minute to three when I gave one quick rap, and nearly straight away a gruff voice shouted , “Come in !”

I hesitated for a moment and then I entered the room, closing the door behind me. I looked apprehensively towards the desk and in front of me I saw an old man about seventy years of age, with a white beard and moustache. He had his legs up on the desk and was smoking a pipe while reading the daily newspaper. He put his pipe down as I entered, and looking at me said, “Now, what do you want, sonny?” I was still wondering about this man, because from what I had heard of Mr Smith I had gathered that he was much younger than this. However, I thought, I must have been mistaken. As I heard the voice say, “Sonny,” it startled me and I came back to my senses. The first words that came to my lips were:”Oh yes, I have come to apply for the job as office boy, sir.”

“Well,” he said, “you look a bright enough lad!”

After he had asked me a few questions, he seemed quite satisfied, and it was finally decided that I should start work the following day at eight o’clock. I left the office very excited by the prospect of beginning my first job.

The next morning at eight o’clock I stood outside Mr Smith’s door and knocked. A voice told me to go in. When I entered there was a ginger-haired young man, about thirty-five, sitting at the desk.

“Could I see Mr Smith, please?” I asked.

“I am Mr Smith, sonny,” he answered.

“But the man who set me on as office boy yesterday afternoon......”

I had gone no further when he interrupted.

“Nobody set you on as office boy yesterday,” he said. “I was to have interviewed you myself, but my secretary and I were held up at the warehouse.”

“But somebody did, “ I replied, “An old gentleman.....”

“What was he like?”

I told him of the old man with the white beard and moustache, and how he had been sitting with his feet up on the desk.

At that, Mr Smith looked at me startled, and said in a queer voice: “That was my father. He was found dead in that position, with his pipe and newspaper in his hands, three years ago.......”

Derek Stott 1H

1959 Magazine


As we rounded a gloomy shed,
lender chimneys loomed ahead,
Swirling clouds of smoke reeled high
Into a grey forbidding sky.
We entered a huge and noisy shed,
And in the centre the furnaces bled
Red molten metal: flames everywhere,
And white-hot sparks flew through the air.
In another shed a tremendous clamour -
The crashing din of a great steam-hammer,
Bashing and pounding pieces of steel
Until your senses began to reel.
Steel girders glided out of the back:
Men piled them up in a shining stack,
From where a huge electric crane
Placed the bars on a long goods train

GH Bedford 1H


Tense excitement as the gate slams,
The feeling of fear as we plunge into blackness.
The glow of our lamp pierces the darkness,
And the cage jolts as we reach the bottom.
The crunch of iron-shod boots striking sparks from the ground
The shattering noise of the drill
Grinding into the coal face.
Black stocky figures crouching,
Beads of sweat glistening in the lamp’s glare.
The day over, we head for the shaft,
Caked in muck and sticky with sweat,
We clamber into the cage and start on our short journey.
We reach the top and step out on to the ground,
Screwing up our eyes against the bright daylight.

JK Roberts 1B