MAGIC

Southland Times, Issue 21832, 8 October 1932, Page 21

MAGIC

Perhaps it was a leaf that drifted by, A withered leaf, all crinkled, brown and dry— I chose that it should be an elf who sped Light as the wind, with golden wings outspread; Bouns for some misty shore of jnagicry, As straight and swift as flies the homing bee. It sounded like bird-voices in the trees— Perhaps a sudden murmur of the breeze? More sweet to fancy Homs of Elfland blew One far, faint, dreaming note that wavered through The evening’s curt. j ed calm, and filled the air With lonely sweetness, strange and fine and rare. It might have been a flower, all agleam >• With sunlight floating down the placid stream* But oh, it was so like a fairy ship! Gold masts a-tremble, silken sails a-dip— Fragile as any blossom might have been, A fairy ship, on board the Fairy Queen I —Cousin Katherine O’Brien (17), Haldane-Tokanui RD.