Poet's Corner

ON DISCOVERING TRANSVESTIA

The hours of gay, wild hope; the stoic years; Frustration and frustration and frustration; The unacknowledged shame; the silent fears; The long-accustomed, secret separation Between my friends and me; the ache returning

Time and again; the grey, concealed distress; The unaccountable and precious yearning

Which must be hidden walled in loneliness;

Where are they now, the burdens borne so long And never spoken- of? The hope remains,

But stronger, and the rest are like a song

Dropped from the hit-parade, as all the strains

Of those lost years sink into the lost past. A gate stanus wide: I glimpse my folk at last.

Virginia Joy

go Kas

FEM-1

IN PRAISE OF MERCANTILE ARCHITECTS

A vote of thanks to stores that make Large use of mirror strips

And wall, that help a lady take A rapid check for unfelt rips. The ravages of time take toll, Upon the TV, too

A sudden glimpse may well reveal A chin that's turning blue.

But there's a bit of extra fun,

That comes to us alone:

The lovely ankles you see run May prove to be your own!

78

Sheila

30-B-2 FPE