ORIGINAL VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 22038, 10 June 1933, Page 19

ORIGINAL VERSE

Cousin Chrissie Ross has not tried her hand at much light verse, and one would expect a hand that itches to break into free rhythms and fancypatterns to be jerky and stilted when it comes to writing a poem like “A Last Word.” I think it is a definite achievement that she has done as well with it as she has. This is a good, straight-forward poem which runs smoothly and sticks to its point throughout—good practice stuff for her to do. I was very pleased to see it. . A LAST WORD. I know that you are sick and tired Of mention of the weather; I know that when you see it here, You’ll heave a sigh together. I know you’re feeling sad and blue, The weather is to blame! I sigh with you, and share your gloom Because—l feel the same. I would not touch the subject now, But still, I simply feel That one last effort must be made: To you I now appeal. There’s just one thing that makes our foe, The Man of Weather, weaken: A cheery smile. He flees away, As dark, before a beacon. So rouse your drooping spirits now, Think hard of something glad. Just make a smile! Transform your face, That has so long been sad. No matter how the clouds loom up, See that a smile gleams through; We’ll show the surly weather-man What we can really do! 4 marks to Cousin Chrissie Ross (14), Maia, Dimedin. Cousin Connie Jellyman has put these ideas to purposeful use, and this poem shows that the meaning of the story she read took root in her mind and branched upwards to her imagination. A thoughtful, reflective poem of not a little beauty, Connie, dear. RAINBOW’S END. (Suggested by a little story I read). You have heard, I know, of the saying old, That the spot where the rainbow ends Marks the place where you’ll find such a store of go With the joy that such wealth attends. Many folk have gone on the golden quest To return with an empty hand. For they found no gold, and they found no rest In a strange, unfriendly land. Yet, the saying old we can still repeat, But take care, as your way you wend, You must first find out for your eager feet— Just where does the rainbow end? Stand in any place where the teardrops fall, And some words of sweet kindness speak, In the beams that shine at their cheering call You will find all the gold you seek. 4 marks to Cousin Connie Jellyman (14), Queen street, Otautau. Cousin Margaret Jellyman always loved working at patterned verse forms, and here she is at the old acrostic-making again, a seasonable offering to “When Winter Goes,” very well achieved. “WHEN WINTER GOES.” —Acrostic — When winter roams about the lane, Holding in check the flow’rs; Exchanging frowns for happy smiles, Need we bemoan the hours? While busy minds can play, and work, In spite of sleet and rain, No little hands need idle be Till summer comes again. Ensconced beside a cosy fire Renew the flagging brain. Good L.S. folk will never groan Or mention Winter’s woes; Except that one and all, will be So happy when he goes. —3 marks to Cousin Margaret Jellyman (12), Queen street, Otautau. Cousin Marion Robertson is really becoming one of our triers, with the result that her lines are beginning to flow with greater smoothness and deftness. THOMAS MINOR’S DREAM. Thomas Minor lay in bed, Sleeping peacefully; Joyous visions filled his head— Happy boy was he. In a shady nook he sprawled, , On a summer day; Eatables and drinkables, All around him lay. On a battle-ship he stood, Telescope in hand; Round him lay a mighty fleet, Under his command. Forth to meet the foe they sped, Through the heaving sea; Thomas Minor led the way— On to victory. Soon the foemen hove in sight, Triumph now was sure! At his word the mighty guns Spoke with dreadful roar. Thomas sat upright in bed— Guns, could this sound be? Horrors! t’was the bell to rise—• Saddened boy was he. —2 marks to Cousin Marion Robertson (15), Bainfield road, Waikiwi.