1: THE OCEAN The ocean is a beautiful thing, The waves beat hard, the cold winds sing; The rough white surf splashes around, The cool blue waves wash on the ground; The moon makes iridescent white, The cold winds blow, so soft and light; In the dark, it is a lovely scene, The water a deep aquamarine. In the distance bellboys sound, On the shore the cold waves pound; It goes together in kind of a song. Listen now! It won't last long! The moonlight ripples in the sea, The ocean's the thing for you and me! Isn't the ocean a wondrous thing, While the waves beat hard and the cold winds sing? Paul Schoen (1959) 2: CHRISTMAS JOY The night before Christmas; all is very bright; Calm, and silent, and still is the night. Atop each fireplace stockings are hung, And soon comes the sound of the chimes that are rung. Trees and houses sparkle with many tiny lights; This merry, merry Christmas has many wonderful sights! Under the Christmas Tree presents are found; A soft white covering smothers the ground. In softness and lightness white snowflakes fall; The white ground in the morning brings joy to all. It's morning! It's Christmas! "Santa" was here! In most every way, this Christmas seems dear. Little children open presents; the carolers sing; What wonderful joy this Christmas will bring! Wherever you look it is bright and gay; The Christ was born on this happy, joyous day! Paul Schoen (1959) 3: OUR GOOD SPRINGTIME Springtime, with brilliant flowers, And light, refreshing showers Nice warm weather, not too hot, With sunshine beaming down a lot; All nature stirring to bring a joy, That will all bad feelings now destroy. The atmosphere makes everyone glad, And awakens the hearts of those who are sad; The sound of nature lulls each thought, And wickedness from each heart has been brought By rustlings of wind-blown grass, while through it wandering breezes pass. And would it not be an awful crime, If someone stole our good springtime? Paul E. Schoen (1959-1960) 4: IN THE FALL In the fall the leaves turn red and gold, As the past summer grows old; The falling leaves crunch underfoot, That in each wandering mind put Dear memories of old times past, That seemed to go by much too fast. A sunset lifts up eyes to see, The bare outline of a tree; The winds grow cold and make the leaves Turn into a mass which quickly weaves It's way around an old oak tree. Fall is a season good to see! Paul Schoen (1959-1960) 5: WINTERTIME Winter, winter, it's almost here, The snow falling, the sky full of drear; The ground white, it covers brown grass, The snow piles up in a flaky mass. The windows frost, for it's cold outside; The snow is deep; on a sleigh let's ride! We ride down the hill, it's chilly today; Children are outside, happy and gay. The wind is blowing, the cold winter chill, Gives every person a wonderful thrill; Of winter; yes, winter, and it's almost here; This winter will be one that's very dear! Paul Schoen (1959-1960) 6: SUMMERTIME Summertime, it's drowsy air, Free from worry, toil or care. Now is the time for vacation, That takes hours of preparation. The summer will be so carefree, That it's hard to believe, do you see? I'm sure it will be lots of fun, for hours of play in the sun; Even though it's hot, The fun will be a lot! With all that time to play, Carefree all the day! It'll soon be summertime; I hope you will have a good time! Paul Schoen (1959-1960) 7: THE SUN The sun beams down on a quiet world, To wake up drowsiness in people. A blue and red banner slowly unfurls, And shadows a high steeple. A building is lit with its majestic light; With it a pond sparkles clear; Now it beams down with all its might, And then a cloud draws near. Closer and closer the cloud grows, Climbing and climbing in height; The oncoming cloud then throws A darkened shadow of lost light. But very soon after, the cloud will pass, Even now you can see the glow Of the sun which comes out at last, And away the dark cloud will blow. Paul Schoen (1959-1961) 11: THE SEASONS In the summertime the sunbeams fill me with joy. In the wintertime, the snowflakes fall to the ground, and everything is made white. Fall is the season when the leaves turn red and gold. But in the springtime, when all life begins anew, then I am the happiest. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 17: IN THE DUNGEONS OF YORNNE In the strange and mysterious dungeons of Yornne, ghosts of ancestors past wander lost and forlorn. As I came to the place in the midst of the night, I was overcome by an obsession of fright. Then my fears were increased as I opened the door and went cautiously in to see what was in store. I was greeted by darkness which, veiling the room, gave my spirit a deep sense of impending doom. Apprehensive with fear, I discovered the stair which leads down to the dungeons: the ghosts' dingy lair. And then holding a candle I entered the gloom. winding stairs took me down to the door of a room. Now within I heard noises; I opened the lock; then the door opened wide, and I saw...solid rock! My surprise was immense and my fear did abound, for the dungeons of legend were ne'er to be found. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 18: AN EXPERIENCE BY THE OCEAN I see the ocean's majesty of glistening sand and sparkling shore, and walk and jump through splashing surf; each time I do I love it more. I hear the sounds of passing ships, and through the damp and misty air I see the sun which, slowly setting, makes a ring of golden glare. The sky has darkened to a violet shade; the evening star appears, and breezes from the sea grow colder as the night-time slowly nears. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 20: A SHOWER IN THE SPRING The rain is gently falling on the fields, and when it stops, the rainbow first appears. The rainbow is a multi-colored bridge which spans the earth below to clouds above; it sweeps majestically through misty air, then swiftly vanishes into the sun. The rain which was before has long since ceased; the cloudy skies are giving way to blue. Cool breezes blow the misty shrouds away; the sunbeams drive the moisture from the ground; and birds are singing songs in swaying trees which bow before the softly blowing breeze. These are the things which happen in the spring, the season which is the most beautiful. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 21: UNIVERSAL FREEDOM Their days abound with fear, and terror fills their nights; but they will still go on to fight for human rights. If someone disagrees, as many often do, they say, "You have your rights, and we must have them, too!" For they are citizens of the United States; their rights can't be denied for color, creed, or race. Their image has been blurred by blight and bigotry, but now let's start anew to make our country free. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 22: THE ARRIVAL OF SPRING Springtime has arrived; life is beginning anew. Flowers are blooming. The fields are full of beauty, and my heart is filled with joy. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 25: THE INEVITABLE The deep abyss of death lies in life's winding way, and no one may avoid the future it conveys. Paul E. Schoen (Feb-Mar 1965) 26: RAINY DAY LAMENTATIONS Did you ever get the feeling, on a cold and rainy day, that you had a leaky ceiling, as your tiles get wet and gray? Water dripping from the ceiling on your head and on the floor, irritates your mind and feeling; guaranteed to make you sore. Call the roofer! Call the plumber! Have them fix that crack or leak! You could not have been much dumber; this should have been done last week! Paul E. Schoen (Apr-May 1965) 27: THOUGHTS AT THE CLOSE OF A DAY As twilight yields to darkened shrouds of night, all nature sleeps in calm serenity; full blossoms close and dew begins to form while moonbeams shine on mute tranquility. Paul E. Schoen (Jun-Sep 1965) 28: A SECRET THOUGHT All people have a secret thought, amidst the toil of daily life, that they might leave the world behind, with all its conflicts, grief and strife. They think of nature's silent splendor, and they wish that they could be a part of this resplendent picture, happy, tranquil, really free Paul E. Schoen (Sep-Nov 1965) 31: CONFORMITY'S THREAT TO FREEDOM We are the great ant colony; we live in mass conformity. No individuality exists in this society! Is this not freedom's cherished land, Led by a firm, but gentle hand, improving with time's drifting sand, and free from all self-willed command? Or are we formed into a mold, in numbers too great to be told, in form of robots dumb and cold, to be by others bought and sold? On this we all must now decide; on this decision freedoms ride; without these our minds would have died, with our great future locked inside! Paul E. Schoen (January 17, 1966) 32: HORNER'S METHOD Little Jack Horner sat in a corner, solving a hairy equation. He plugged in a number, which made it look dumber, so he said, "I'm just good at erasin'!" Paul E. Schoen (January 25, 1966) 33: SAGACIOUS AWAKEFULNESS Sometimes when I have rested well the world seems cleared of mysteries; but I become more sensitive, and full of many miseries. Forgotten problems stand out bold, and dominate my every thought; when one is solved, more soon appear, and my poor brain becomes distraught. But then fatigue dulls these deep thoughts; much simpler matters slowly creep into my weary troubled mind; so with a welcome sigh, I sleep. Paul E. Schoen ( May, 1966 ) 34: THE GOAL What is the best course one may take to truly find success in life? One must not work for his own sake, for this will cause internal strife. Success is measured by one's dreams; his aspirations, hopes and fears; and men must always work in teams: this has been proven through the years. If one is to find true success, he must consider others first. His work is not done to impress but to give drink to those who thirst. This is the guide to happiness - a life of service to our friends is the noblest success, when life itself at long last ends. Paul E. Schoen ( May 24, 1966 ) 36: YOUR FRIENDSHIP This is a time when life seems bleak; My friends seem all too few. My only happiness is that One of these friends is you. Paul E. Schoen ( November, 1966 ) 35: OMINOUS QUEST In the eerie darkness unlit by moon or star, with unrivaled starkness, I wandered very far. My trail was deftly covered; no footprint could be seen. I must not be discovered. I must find the deep ravine. Alone I did continue to fulfill my lonely quest; I strained my every sinew, I tried to do my best. My goal was coming nearer with every forward leap. My purpose grew sincerer; the trail was growing steep. I crawled upon my hands and knees; I nearly lost my breath. I reached the ledge beyond the trees - and then leaped to my death. Paul E. Schoen (Sept 4, 1966) 37: MISHAP AT THE BALLPARK I swung the bat with all my might and then the pitcher hurled the ball; but I was fully unprepared, and in the dirt I had to fall. The second time I swung too soon, and with the bat behind my back, I twisted 'round to hit the ball, and heard a loud resounding crack. The ball lay still upon the ground, and I was lying next to it. My spine was wrenched from head to tail; my stomach felt like it would split. The catcher tried to grab the ball, and gouged my arm with his sharp spikes; he slipped and kneeled upon my face as the umpire yelled "two strikes!" But still the worst was yet to come, for as I flexed my aching legs, a heckler in the first row threw a wild barrage of rotten eggs. While dripping wet, in agony, I grimly left the ballpark field, and watched the flies and hornets come as the egg on my face congealed. Paul E. Schoen - Summer, 1967 38: THE SEARCH FOR FRIENDSHIP I think of years which I did spend searching desperately to find a person to be a true friend, and now I see that I've been blind. My troubles are within myself - I cannot blame a one but me: I had been sitting on a shelf with no ability to see. Potential friends are everywhere, but I had always passed them by. It was not that I did not care; I merely was too meek and shy. And even now I cannot do what probably would help me most; my inhibitions stick like glue, and my true self remains a ghost. I try to let myself be free, but I cannot release my bond. My natural personality will not permit me to respond. My inner nature softly cried, but I had built up walls without; and its small voice was locked inside, still trying vainly to get out. But now at last I have begun to hear that voice, and to obey. Now I begin to see the sun: my life has turned from night to day! Paul E. Schoen August 18, 1968 39: A NIGHT OF FOND MEMORIES The sun's rays shone with radiant glory through the pink clouds in the west; this was the scene of my fond story, one which I love to tell best. The trees and blades of grass were glistening as the twilight quietly fell. Now, I would like you to be listening to this story which I tell. The field was full of sweetest flowers, and their scent was in the air. They seemed to give one magic powers; such a night was truly rare. We walked along the path together; she walked with me, by my side. But we did not discuss the weather, or the slowly changing tide. Our thoughts were of much deeper feeling, and our sincere words expressed the fact that we were then revealing that we loved each other best. Paul E. Schoen August 18, 1968 40: THE MESSAGE OF THE SEA The moonlight glistens on the darkened sea; the surf pounds softly on the rocky shore. Its echo seems to be a gentle plea to create peace within a world of war. I hear the sounds of ships which pass me by; their lonely whistles break the calm of night. They seem to shout with a resounding cry, that men should never have to kill and fight. I sadly listen to the ocean's song; I watch the moonlight ripple everywhere. I feel that it cannot be very long until the world is freed from its despair. Paul E. Schoen August 22, 1968 41: A LONELY LOVER BY THE SEA I see the clear blue sky above, While gentle breezes stir the sea; How can I tell you of my love, When you avoid me constantly? The bright red sun shines through the mist, And slowly sets far in the west; If only once we could have kissed, I could have proved I love you best. I sit upon the sandy shore, And listen to the restless sea; So now you love another more: You'll ne'er again be close to me. The darkened skies reveal the moon, And white sands glisten from its glow; Why must our love end quite so soon? I'm sure that I will never know. Now cold winds stir the quietness, and moonlit waves wash on the sand. My love for you I have confessed, But you will never understand. Paul E. Schoen January 12, 1969 42: A LOVE NOW LOST While lying here in dark of night, I think of you and times we've known; Then slowly comes the morning light, Reminding me that I'm alone. Methodically I leave my bed, And wearily I wash my face; A throbbing pain goes through my head, From certain thoughts I can't erase. I never will forget the day, When you said that it was all through; I could not think of words to say. I couldn't believe it was true. But I could see it was no joke, When you were going with someone new Although it was my heart you broke, I still can love no one but you. Paul E. Schoen January 12, 1969