ORIGINAL VERSE.

Southland Times, Issue 20172, 7 May 1927, Page 22 (Supplement)

ORIGINAL VERSE.

There are some good phrases in Cousin Daphne Godward’s “Fairlie in the Autumn,” which is fluently written, with no apparent effort. It is her fluency which is the most promising thing about her work at present. She appears to write so easily, and the quantity of her output bears out that indication. FAIRLIE IN THE AUTUMN. Ah, Fairlie in the Autumn! have the poplars turned to gold? Do the mountains rear their coronets’ white wonder as of old? Does the river still slip shining by, to join the distant sea, And the white road call to others, as once it called to me? I cannot see the curve of hills against an April sky, But I long for those green miles again, where Fairlie foothills lie; I cannot hear the vagrant lark in country fields at dawn, But I think of their wild tumult in fields of Fairlie corn! Ah, tell me, do the feet of Day, light-footed on the snow, Still leave a rosy imprint in the whiteness as they go? Does the Night come dropping swiftly, bringing magic in her train, And the little winds of Fairlie, sing the world to sleep again? —4 marks to Cousin Daphne Godward (17), “Rockhaven,” 397 Elies Road, North Invercargill. As far as I can remember, this Soliloquy is only Cousin Myrtle Somerville’s second attempt at verse making, w’hich is rather remarkable. She has built up a poem on an excellent idea, and whether accidental or not, the way she has repeated her first and last lines is very effective, stressing as it does the inevitable occurrence of “tomorrow.” , Some of her rhymes are poor, as “misery” and “wish to be,” and her metre, but there is sufficient of worth in this poem to make me anxious for the next verses of this Cousin. I hope they will not be long in coming. SOLILOQUY, AT NIGHT, ON TO-MORROW. Oh! what will the day bring forth? Laughter and gladness, Or tears and sadness? Oh! what will the day bring forth? Oh! what will the day bring forth? Friendship’s loving kindness, Or pride’s blindness? Oh! what will the day bring forth? Oh! what will the day bring forth? Tenderness and happiness, Or hate and bitterness? Oh! what will the day bring forth? Oh! what will the day bring forth? Heart’s desire or misery, Something you do not wish to be. Oh! what will the day bring forth? Oh! what will the day bring forth? If some unseen Power were to unveil The day, perhaps my courage would fail, Oh! what will the day bring forth? Oh! what will the day bring forth? I long to know, Yet I would not know Oh! what will the day bring forth? —3 marks to Cousin Myrtle O. Somerville (15) Bluff Road, Clifton. It is good to receive another poem from Cousin Bruce Godward. There is a great deal of promise in his work, which needs only practice to develop in ease and thought. “A Song of the Forest” is a splendid piece of work for a young Cousin of his age. I like the idea of the night wind “singing of the moonlight that shineth o’er the seas.” There is a great deal of originality in Bruce that only needs practice to be developed. A SONG OF THE FOREST. The forest in the morning— The sunlight peeping through, The golden day is dawning, The leaves are wet with dew! The forest in the noontide— The flowers are sweet and gay, The violets grow side by side, The path is strewn with may. The forest in the twilight— The birds have gone to rest, The shadows of the coming night Are creeping round their nest. The forest in the midnight— The night wind in the trees Is singing of the moonlight That shineth o’er the seas. —4 marks to Cousin Bruce Godward (11), 397 Elies Road, North Invercargill. Cousin Isa Robertson is strengthening her hand by practice, and her “Old-Fashioned Cottage,” is an improvement on her earlier verse-miking. THE OLD FASHIONED COTTAGE. In an old-fashioned cottage, Beside the way, Live an old-fashioned couple With hair turning grey, For years that they trod Life’s path together, Neither heeded nor turned from Life’s stormy weather. And that old-fashioned cottage Beside the way, Brings memories back From day to day, For many a traveller has cause to say: “May God bless the couple so old and grey.” —2 marks to Cousin Isa Robertson (12), 110 Chelmsford street, North Invercargill. Isn’t it nice to have our Cousin James Amos back again! I liked his poem on “The Little Mouse.” It shows that he knows more about life than one would suppose—it reminds me of the days when I used to keep my icing till the last, and somebody would snatch it off my plate before I had a chance to consume it! THE LITTLE MOUSE. A little mouse, he nibbled at The cheese upon the shelf, The biscuits too, He nibbled through, To all he helped himself. He set to work and nibbled at All that he could find. He didn’t care, For your share Was what he’d left behind. But pussy saw And with her paw She moved, with motions deft, Then set to work and ate him up And all that he had left. —2 marks to Cousin James Amos (11), Mabel Bush. Cousin Elsie Amos’ poem on “The Wind” is quite well done, and her metre ■ surer than sometimes it is. That is a good sign. I hope she will continue to improve. THE WIND. The wind—he is a gay old sport, He tosses things about, He doesn’t seem to mind at all, How much I laugh or shout. He loves to take my hat away. And toes my hair about, I call to him to stop awhile, But he doesn’t hear me shout. He catches at the tall green tree®, And gives the limbs a toss, For something to be knocked about, He’s never at a loss. The wind—he is a gay old sport. With him I love to play, He helps me fly my little kite, And sails my boat away. With him I have such jolly fan, We are great friends, you see, I don’t know what I’d do, without The wind, to play with me. —2 marks to Cousin Eteie Amos Mabel Bush.