ORIGINAL VERSE

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 3 October 1925, Page 14

ORIGINAL VERSE

the VOICE OF SPRING, Old winter has left us. Once more he has fled To latitudes northwards Whose coming all dread. Springtime now is with us. Oh! glorious Springtide, We welcome thee always ' With arms open wide. Dame Nature responds To thy wondrous embrace; O’er the whole countryside Thy advent we trace. The birds are a-nesting, The flowers gaily bloom, The trees a green mantle Everywhere now assume. Transformation so wondrous Just now we behold; The work of the Master Hand To us doth unfold. —G.S.W. Hawera. SEPTEMBER. *

This is September! once I wrote before On this same month, and now I write once more; But not to praise. I did not praise it then, , And shall not now; I will not let my pen Depart from truth —which truth is that the weather Is just abominable altogether. According to the month it should be spring; But by the Tyeathef quite another thing:— ’Tis winter—greater winter —long drawn out, Of that there’s no one has the smallest doubt. Sometimes you’ll hear a little shivering bird Breath forth, as if afraid he may be heard By other birds, and be by them thought mad, r A little song unutterably sad. Old Sol himself seems utterly befogged If he sinks “plimsoll’ he’ll get waterlogged And never more will shed his golden rays Upon the world as in the olden days. At all events the rain just now comes

down As if it meant all living things to drown; Rain, seas of rain, mixt up with hail galore From out the murky heavens o’erhead do pour, While lightnings flash and thunders rend heaven’s floor And from all points'the furious tempests roar. I did think once that I should build an ark And would on building this same bark embark, But. that heart timber is a lot too dear— And 0.8. would be rotten quite I fear Ere heaven and earth of this vile flood were clear. ». .So I must give that scheme up in disgust, And there’s another “ South Sea bubble” bust. • Now here we are beset with rain and

mud And junks of ice which fall with merry thud; Lightning and thunder, winds as cold as death, Which in their fury take away our breath; And make us fool as tho’ we’d like to

bo North with Amundson in the Polar sea. In short, with so much mud and slush and rain, We’ll get foot-rot and water on the brain. —Chas. Johnson. Hawera.