TREASURE.
(By Joan Pain, "St. Rollos," Papatoetoe.) The moon spills little pools of silver on the bed, It hovers like a butterfly round baby's curly liead, And all the trees have silver fingers pointing to the sky, And silver arc the birds' songs when the dawn trips gently by. Golden is the morning, and a little streamlet's song, Aa it trills its liquid notes among the ferns the whole day long, A little patch of sunlight lingers golden in the grass, And baby's laugh is golden when she sSJs pass. Original.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AS19321203.2.141.6
Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 287, 3 December 1932, Page 2 (Supplement)
Word Count
91TREASURE. Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 287, 3 December 1932, Page 2 (Supplement)
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Acknowledgements
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