THE DESERTED GARDEN.

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 31 July 1926, Page 18

THE DESERTED GARDEN.

A garden old that seems to lib In .silence, sacred to the sky— And poppies waving red and sweet, All undisturbed by careless feet— A sundial marks away the hours With shadows ecol, and heavy flowers; Above its head the centuries blend; In maze of poppies grasses bend With- weight of yearn so slow to pass With soundless footsteps o’er the grass. And no one "knows how one may lie And watch the flower-filled hours go by. And hear above the distant, call Of bird to bird, while over all The little creeping shadows pass And point their fingers o’er the grass. And there the night is strange and

still! Dark lanterns glow on windy hill! And one may hear the darkness through The swish of witches in the dew, And see, perchance, through, shadows dim The silver gleam of silver limb. And whispers creep along the ground, Where night draws purple curtains .round! And no one knows the place but me, And no one sees the things I see, And no one knows how there the hours Creep in my heart and bloom as ilowers! There Winter doth explain the Spring, Its flowers and joys and wondering, And all things harmonise as one. And I am part- of flowers and sun.