OUR OWN VERSEMAKERS

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12394, 13 March 1926, Page 16

OUR OWN VERSEMAKERS

SUMMER PLAY Come, let us play at hide-and-seek Along the bank of the sparkling creek*. Under the shade of the leafy treee That murmur secrets to the breem. The birches stand on our grassy hill. The leaves and the branches are neve* still, And when we are playing the echoes ring out... ‘‘Coming!’' and "Beady!"...our joyful shout. Far down an bur right the waves do play And send out their ripples across tho bay. The waters in ribbons stretch out ■ to the sun And form a bright pathway until the day’s done. DOBOTHY MASLEN, Wellington. (Aged 13.) (I knew it would... and there, you see. it has...made quite lovely verses! And it wasn’t really hard, was it, Dorothy ? The breezes whispered to you what the grasses hadn’t told you. They always do on magic hilltops. And _ you've managed that ‘‘rhythm" as right as right... and the rhymes, too. There's only one thing... I’m wondering about that creek. Are you sure there was one? Creeks don’t usually go wandering up... they mostly tumble down to the sea as fast as they can. "Do play" is just a tiny bit stiff, and reminds you that it had to be that, to make the line long enough—which spoils it rather. But they’re email mistakes, and we|re qnite proud of you, my Vereemaker.— Fairiel.) SUMMER PLAY The cool breeze sways the tall tree tops In the green woods where we play. The golden gorse and the broom teed pops, And a little fantail so cheekily hops On a lovely summer's day. Tliero are bushes so nice for* hide-aad* seek, , And a lovely dell so gay. Where the harebells and the buttercups peep... Where we dress ourselves with Sowars deep And pretend we are "Queen of tho May " We swing on tho branches, np and down,, And play leapfrog and seesaw on fallen logs. And away in the distance Wo see tho town, , . With its winding river and homes brown. And foxgloves over the bog. The birds to their nests in flocks fly by. And cattle -are wending their homeward way. , And the setting sun in a red-and-gold ' »k>. ’ i ‘ . The deepening shadows, the wind's soft , sigh, Brings the end of a summer's day. AUDREY BAOUMGBEN. Kaiwarra. ■ - • CAged 11.) , (Good, Audrey,' too...though your verses are different. You have remembered well all 'the outdoor things that go to the making of summer... I think that "popping" of the seed-pods is the "sum- > meryest” thing in the world that, and Cicadas. And, in the town, it's hoses on the lawns. They make me feeL warm and comforty...even on this tearful day with my window just .a smudge of winter. It's a rather difficult rhyming-way you tried,.- Andzey. The second-lines of the two last verses are longer than tho other Second-Knee, and the rhymes aren't always right, are they? "Seek" and "peep" won't: do, my Yeisemaker, and "bog" ought really to be pluraL I just think. you might have; discovered these things for yourself, if you’d, looked carefully over it before you sent it. Now, you must (find pictures for yourselves... real ones., and make your veraes frqr 1 them.—Fairish) ” :*•