OUR OWN VERSEMAKERS

Evening Post, Volume CIV, Issue 68, 17 September 1927, Page 14

OUR OWN VERSEMAKERS

GEEENMEADOWS. Know you a dell where, in little blub bonnets, "Wild violets play ... 'Neath golden-fruited orango boughs With snowdrops all the day? Whcro lemon-scented air is breathed By baby walnut trees, , And daisies scatter all around . . .? I know . . and love . . all these. MAKJORIE JONES. Evans Bay. DAFFODILS. Pretty flowers all springing up. O tho daffodil's golden cup, As you sway and swing, You look like tho golden sun in the spring! Let me tell you, pretty flower, That you do not live for an. hour. It is time after time, But that golden cup what you call a bell will never, never chime. —ELSIE BEAUMONT. Jolinsonville. THE POSTMAN. "Have you a letter for me?" "Four from the Silvery Moon, dear, seven from Over tho Sea. But your friends were forgetful, for there's never a stamp upon these. So do not delay me, Miss Betsy, but pay me, Two kisses on each of them, please." —BETTY SIMMISS. Petone. MAGIC PILLOWS. Morning. Pure thoughts, like daisies gay, Bloom within my mind to-day. Noon. Wise thoughts, like hearts of gold, Shine when, daisy buds unfold. Night. Daisy thoughts, sewn lavishly, Yield content and joy to me. —HELEN OMBLER. Wellington. A STAR. Away in the Heavens is your home, Across tho sky you nightly roam. Glitter, glitter, little star, Up in the heavens over so far. How many years have you lingered there To gaze at the earth and stare and stare? —NOEL HOGGABD. Lower Hutt.