ORIGINAL VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 20939, 23 November 1929, Page 22

ORIGINAL VERSE

Although it must surely be Christmas cleaning she is writing about, Cousin Jean Playfair has given her poem “Spring Cleaning,” a very neat application. It is good to look beneath the surface of things, because hidden truths are always the most valuable. Jean is already benefiting from simplicity of style, and is learning to express herself with greater ease. SPRING CLEANING. The joyous happy days have come, The flowers are budding fast, • - ' And we must make our homes fresh too, From first thing to the last. We’re scrubbing, dusting, polishing, Arranging pretty flow’rs, And making ev’ry little room As sunny as the hours. And when we’ve finished all our work, There’s something else to do. We do not all remember it — • Spring clean our minds—do you ? We’ll wash away all ugly thoughts, And dust the cobwebs down, And polish till our thoughts shine bright, And there’s no trace of frown. We’ll make our minds as fresh as Spring, Our hearts as light as air, And we’U enjoy these happy days, When everything’s so fair. 4 marks to Cousin Jean Playfair (16), Gummies Bush, Riverton R.D. Cousin Vera Williamson ie certainly following in the footsteps of her illustrious sister, because both her verse and story-making is improving a good deal along satisfactory lines. I hope she is going to try to become a regular contributor. TO-NIGHT. I’ll wander down by the hills to-night, As the daylight slowly fades: I’ll walk tho valley in fading light, ’Neath the spreading pine tree shades. I’ll linger round by the stream to-night, As it croons me a good-night song; While the shadows dance on its waters bright, As it slowly ripples along. I’ll walk the little white road to-night, That winds o’er the yellow plain; As the sun’s last gleaming rays of light, Fade into the West again. I’ll wander round by the hills to-night, As the first moonbeams peep through: While the mellow moon sheds a cheery light, And begins its work anew. —'4 marks to Cousin Vera Williamson (12), Baxter street, Balclutha. Another Cousin whose verse-making is improving very well is Cousin Nan Columb, and of course I admire the subject she has chosen this week very- much indeed. MOTHER. My mother is an angel Sent down by God to me— To comfort me in sorrow, And all my joys to see. She is the kindest creature In all the world of wile, I love her for her sweetness— Her kindly word —her smile. She is so very quiet— She does not e’er complain, E'en when things are saddest, She smiles—and suffers pain. There is no person braver, When time comes for her share Of sorrow deep, or poverty, She does her best to bear. —4 marks to Cousin Nan Columb (15), 106 Broughton street, Gore. Cousin Vera Gillespie is a verse-maker who only works in spurts; but when she does send me anything it always reveals a considerable sense of humour and much natural ability. The metre in "The Modest V.C.’s,” is not always smooth, and “relate” and “make” is not a rhyme. But it’s a splendid idea, and I hope she will write some more soon. THE MODEST VC’S. ‘ Prince Charming invited to his palace one night, All the soldiers who had won the V.C. in the fight, To dine, and relate —just for fun, How they earned the decoration while fighting the Hun Pat, from Ireland, was the first to relate, And just a few lines his story’ would make: In the midst of a scuffle, to save his soul he did flee, Then the captain called out “There goes a V.C.” Sandy, from Scotland, wasn’t a duke’s son and heir, But he gave a wave of his hand to the Prince in the chair, And said that in one scrap he had missed his tea, And by saving the sixpence had gained the V.C. A couple of Diggers from Aussie and N.Z., And an Indian soldier with a turban of red, Said that the dinner was luscious, they all must agree, But they’d really forgotten how they gained the V.C. Prince Charming smiled, and was cheered as he spoke, Saying how pleasant it was to hear brave men crack a joke, Though they wouldn’t brag of the deeds they had done, He knew that the Victoria Cross they all had won. —3 marks to Cousin Vera Gillespie (12), 288 Dee street, Invercargill. Cousin Rosemary Rowley is a trier, and her verse-making is improving steadily, although I would sooner see her attempting rhyme for a while, anyway, and the repetition of “sleeping” is not good. TWILIGHT. Night time is coming, The drowsy birds are twittering, The flowers are closing, The bees are all sleeping, The soft blue sky is reddening, All the night insects are wakening, All Mother Nature’s children are sleeping. 2 marks to Cousin Rosemary Rowley (11), Clifden House, Clifden. “My Dream Maids” is a pretty little poem carefully written. • I would like Cousin Jeannie Braid to be very sparing with her exclamation marks in her verses “MY DREAM MAIDS.” I see a girl of my dream-time, With lovely jet-black hair, With starry eyes, and blushing cheeks And dimples everywhere. Another maid of long ago Has wondrous golden tresses And bright blue eyes, and ruby lips. But, oh! such length of dresses. But alas for me I cannot see Those dream girls everywhere, For oh! such maids are far and few, And of course are very rare. —2 marks to Cousin Jeannie Braid (13), Lumsden,