Radio and television mirror (Jan-June 1950)

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Radio Mirror's Prize Poem AND ALL MY LOVES If loving you meant love, and only that — A lamp for one dim corner of the heart, A private warmth that pleased the soul and sat In dear seclusion like a queen apart; If loving you meant sacrifice of all The smaller loves a dreamer must attend, I could not promise I would let them fall — I could not ask them to be less than friend. But knowing you has spread my heart, and where Your warming love resides a wider arc Springs outward from the flame, a light more fair Than all my dreaming shoulders back the dark. You give me more of beauty than you know, And all my loves would have me tell you so. — Harold Applebaum r^^^^ JEALOUSY My mind and heart co-operate To reassure me, when you're late. But jealousy is sometimes prone To dream up reasons of its own. So, while I'm sure you wouldn't lie, The green-eyed beast demands that I Invest me with sufficient doubt To hem me in with, when you're out. And you, with just enough of sin To bawl you out for, when you're in. — Faye Chilcote Walker FOR YOU I bring you a handful of stars From night's prismed chandelier. To reach its height I became An ocean wave's charioteer. Play with them, please Have fun! Wear them in your hair. Toss them to glisten in candle-light Roll them down the stair. Before they tarnish or dim Hang them in mem'ry's sky To dance nostalgically, Tremblingly near, To remind you that I passed by. — Marjorie L. Schaefer Beginning in the March issue RADIO MIRROR WILL PAY TEN DOLLARS for the best original poems sent in each month by readers. Between the Bookends is being discontinued with this issue, but Radio Mirror is still interested in purchasing poetry. Limit poems to 30 lines, address t.a Poetry, Radio Mirror Magazine, 205 E. 42 St., New York 17, N. Y. Each poem must be accompanied by this notice. This is not a contest, but an effort to purchase poetry for use in Radio Mirror. This is marriage. I lean on you, And unperplexed is the path I view; You talk to me and your thoughts become clear — You are my shoulder, I am your ear! — May Richstone 42