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Show Wj you dig up the earth To plant a few garden seeds. We all must agree, in this land of the free, Would be better for thistles and weeds. Now Summer's O. K., Autumn's great we all say The cold Winter, its praises we sing; We'll blow lots of bubbles, forget all our troubles Do away with this season called Spring. I : 1. Spring Pomes Give Pleasure To Finkelstein BY TKOFESSOR FINKELSTEIN How wonderful it was to come to the office this morning and find so many more additions to the increasing in-creasing stack of Spring Pomes! And because the professor feels they are so very fine he just can't hold out on you any longer, so have at them, fellow bards: A moon of ideals floating In o sky of misty blue; A milky way of emotions, dreams That may prove untrue; The cause of these thoughts Concerning such things Is the shining green veil That is changing to Spring. Nature drops her cloak of brown and reveals Her glamorous colors of flower bedecked fields; She now has the grace to let herself erase, The cold gray matter that has been cast on her face. y , Donning her spring garb; she throws her arms vide Distributing warm beauty in the wake of her stride; She throws back her head and all song birds sing, Of course Nature's uncovered the thing called "Spring." Eueiia Pelriff, who lives at R. F. D. 1, Box 95A, Provo, presented us with the above, and to "Senoj" we - are indebted for the one to follow. It's entitled "The Thing Called Spring," and written, so Senoj says, "With apologies to A. B. Simmons," whose verse appeared ap-peared the other day. The seasons come on; aa time moves along There's Summer, Winter, and Autumn by heck; The time of the year, when Spring arrives here It gives me a pain in the neck. Plenty work to be done, it ends all our fun Winter sports are spoiled f or the fans; Use a shovel anr! rake, your back will break When you haul off the ashes and cans. Cuss the day of your birth, when |