Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1948)

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ItukunJ^uu THANKSGIVING DAY . . . 1948 Radio Mirror's Prize 'Poem Not a mere feast day ... let this not be that . . . But one of thanks, both simple and sincere, That God has brought us to the harvest time . . . The wintry edge of still another year. Not a mere feast day, given to gluttony . . . But, rather, one of asking God to bless Our future days while praising Him for His "Merciful dealing in the wilderness" . . . To use the very words the Pilgrims used That First Thanksgiving Day . . . our world, ihdeed, Being a wilderness, more vast than theirs, Of fear and selfishness and hate and greed. Not a mere feast day . . . but a day of prayer Before all else ... of heart-meant prayer and praise That God has been a Lantern to our feet And so will be down all the coming days. . — Violet Alleyn Storey POPCORN MAN He sets his white cart where its brilliant light Will make a little island in the night. Let others shout their goods with raucous cries. Skilled in long years of peddling, he is wise To let his wares speak for themselves. He goes By the subtler allurement of the nose. Calmly oblivious to all the din. The popcorn-man scoops fluffy" kernels in White paper sacks, with steady practiced hand. Pretending not to see the hungry stand. Mouths watering, coins clutched in waiting fingers. Then, with a dignified finesse, he lingers Over each purchase, careful to a fault. Pouring hot butter through, shaking the salt. He plays his nightly role, sure of his fame. They are the hovering moths to his bright flame. —Esther Baldwin York THE ETERNAL RIDDLE Side by side, though leagues apart, He cannot read her woman-heart. Yet he has wisdom— for a manHe knows there's no one else who -Isla Paschal Richardson STORM CENTRE When Grandpa's temper rose, the dishes danced Like dervishes upon the startled table; Fido skulked out, his tail beween his legs; We children kept as quiet as we were able. But the storm soon ended, and the eveninghours Regained their poise, jogged to a gentle pace; The dog slept near the round, red-bellied stove, And Grandma calmly tatted or made lace; For Time had taught her this wise epigram: — Ignored, the blustering lion becomes a lamb! — Pauline Havard UNINHIBITED Today, I saw a bright green cloud, An elephant in pink, A cow togged out in wild red shorts — Oh! No! I never drink! A hen displayed a suit of blue Beside a purple pig. And pumpkins on an apple tree Made my old eyes grow big; I blinked them twice and held my breath. And dared another look — Relax, my friend; I'd only found My three-year-old's paint book. — Elizabeth Chapman W A . . <*KT^ ,S ■^ jflMta^ "MI*'v**',J4j* SS3KN* HE WIND SERPENS. THE DViS DRAW IN. NOW If THE TIME WHEN HEARTH