THE OLD GATEMAN
The gate is 'lacquered scarlet And studded with knobs of brass: A lone bright square In the gray wall Edging the narrow street All day the old gateman Sits on a stool In his worn blue robe, Drowsing. But at the bell's first clang, He leaps up To guard the secret treasure Of pavilioned courts beyond; And, like an eagle pouncing, Flings open the red doors With a swoop of his patched sleeves M.M.M.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HN19380302.2.9
Bibliographic details
Hutt News, Volume 11, Issue 38, 2 March 1938, Page 3
Word Count
77THE OLD GATEMAN Hutt News, Volume 11, Issue 38, 2 March 1938, Page 3
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