Our Own Verse-Maker.

Evening Post, Volume CXIII, Issue 1, 2 January 1932, Page 16

Our Own Verse-Maker.

"SUNSET ON THE HILLS." (Original.) There is soreno- quietness midst tlie hills. As slowly Ihe sun goes to heavenly r And bids farewell as it sinks in the v And the balmy air with mellow llgln The birds are singing their evening hi .- In full-throated joyous trills. That gladly resound in the hollow rill?. And linger with the sun's parting rays. The west Is suffused will] a crimson light, As the sun's last rays disappear; And now darkness 13 very near. > Aiid birds hastily prepare their homeward - flight. The crimson west slowly changes to grey, And nights dark inantlo envelopes the day. "TATTEXHOE" (U). Kilbirnie. "WINDS." (Original.) Somhrous clouds horizon-ward fly. Scudding before the winds that sljli, ■ Ami sinking, are swallowed 'neath the sea. Phantom shapes, wild and free. Twigs and leaves, shredded and torn. Writhing, are caught and seaward born. "XOM-DE-PLUME" (17). City. "A LITTLE BROWN MOUSE." (Original.) A little brown mouse Crept out or her hole To see If Miss. Pussy Was out for a stroll. As she didn't sec puss, She climbed up on the shelf. Got some cheese for her babies, | And ate some herself. i When she'd anlshed her cheese And tucked her babes up. She crept into bed, Where she slept like a top. "DEIItDRE" (14). HM<HHtH4*UUUIIIUi