We Have Our Rhymers

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 70, 23 March 1940, Page 2 (Supplement)

We Have Our Rhymers

THE ICE SKATERS. (By Muriel Grainger, 2. Finch Street, Morningside.) Across Hie cold Hliie ice, Skaters swiftly lly, Swooping, wheeling low, Poked against the sky. A Hash of silver steel, Shimmering lightly o'er,. As liic waking moon, Floods, that frozen floor.

*S"hc /oi>es me, S>,t hocj: mc not -"• "She loves me, she loves me not . ." But Kathleen Olds, the' artist, doesn't tell us to what decision Peter Pumpkin the Pixie eventually came. EVENING. (By rcnelonc Adams, c/o I'ost Office, Wlmnpirci.) As I sit beside my window idly dreaming , Tin: beauty 'of this earth drifts through my mind, ~ The horrid things like self and hate and scheming Have lessened like the passing of the ' wind. As the twilight shadows quietly steal ' around me, The> cattle and all Nature seem at , rest, The birds have ceased their soncs of sweetly telling Jlow bv the love of God the world is blessed. The crickets in the grass beneath my window Nave just begun their nightly hour of play, The stars are trying hard to shine more brightly, Helping many a traveller on his way. The sorrows of the day have now' departed, While trials, temptation, strife alike have fled. Like some mighty eagle soaring homeward, Leaving 'ncalh it many of its dead. Softlv pealing through the amber twilight Calls the (ilea for all to conic to prayer, Clean your hearts and lift your eyes to heaven, Surely all will find a solace there.

IF AT FIRST(By Irene Short. 12, St. Alban's Avenue, Mount Kilcn.) Ever since the "Star" Twinkles came Each month I've longed to see mv name On Peter Pan's high honour list." I'll get there yet—if I persist. I'll make up poems, and stories, too, For I'm determined to win through, I shall not rest until the time I win that prize, for sketch or rhyme. And when I've won that fine reward, I'll tfing for joy, like one who tries, BACK FROM MARKET. (Sent In by Maurine Wright, 14, Marsden Avenue, Mount Eden.) Back from market, here we come, Bringing bread and butter home, Buck from market, with a load, Tramping down the dusty road. Tea and jam and bread "and rice, Buns and biscuits, eake and spice, Parcels, baskets, such a load. Tramping .down the dusty road. Back from market, here we come, Bringing bread and butter home. WINTER. (By Daisy Ah Chan, Totara, Thames.) The winter's come to deck tho ground, With frost and snow onco'morc; And trees have lost their leaves again, The coat which once they wore. The mists rise in tho. freezing air, On a chilly winter's day, While Jack Frost bites the tiny feet And hands of little May. Some birds have opened up their wings, For frost ,-nd snow thev fear, Until tho winter days have gone, Of them we will not hear.

"/ wish the fish would bite a bit!" says Hendrilc. This drawing Was copied by Sunbeam Shirley Corlette, age 14, Wharf Road, Creenhilhe.