JUNE.
Oh, shrouded June, with your gold face hidden, What have- you brought in your lucky bag? May’s empty satchel begins to sag, For May to a twelve-mouth’s rest is bidden,And she makes a screen of the waxing moon. But what have you brought in, your baggage, June?
What have you brought us? A pulsing sorrow ? A soft, shy joy, with its rosebud lips? Do you pass me a hate with your finger tips? Or a liardy friend for a. grey to-morrow? I can 'hear the tap of your hurrying: shoo n And the hinge of the door is creaking, June. —M. Forrest, in the Australasian.
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Bibliographic details
Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 19 June 1926, Page 18
Word Count
106JUNE. Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 19 June 1926, Page 18
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