OUR POETRY

Taranaki Daily News, 3 August 1935, Page 6 (Supplement)

OUR POETRY

THE SKYLARK AND THE DEWDROP. (Sent by Cynthia Turner.) Said a dewdrop to a skylark—- “ While the world is still asleep At the great red sun up yonder I should like to take a peep. “As you’re fond of early rising Let me mount upon your back, While you sing your morning carol Up the sunbeams’ golden track.” And some little children waking Heard the skylark’s joyous song, While along the bending grasses Rows of crystal dewdrops hung. Then the lark came down to breakfast, And I wonder if he knew That the great red sun up yonder From his wings had kissed the dew. THE WIND. (Sent by Kathleen Nelson.) What can be the matter With Mr. Wind to-day? He calls for me so loudly Through the key-hole, “come and play!” I’ll put my warm red jacket on And pull my hat on tight. He’ll never get it off, although He tries with all his might. I’ll stand so firm upon my legs, I’m strong; what do I care. Now, Mr. Wind, just come along And blow me if you dare! INVALIDS. (Sent by Gwen Taylor.) The rain I don’t complain about; It never stops my going out With rubbers, gamp, and mackintosh To walk through puddles, splish, splash, splash. But I’ve just had an awful cold, And must keep out of draughts, I’m told; To-morrow I’ll go out, they say, If it’s a fine, dry, sunny day. Oh! Speak and Teddy, please do try, To make this afternoon go by! I know. I'll just pretend that you Have dreadful colds, poor darlings, too! I’D LIKE TO BE A HOUSEMAID. (Sent by Betty Ashton.) I’d like to be a housemaid In uniform so neat, And look my very smartest From my head down to my feet. I’d keep the rooms so tidy, And make the beds so well, And answer very promptly When someone rang the bell. ' I really think no housemaid Would work as well as I— Oh! can I come to-morrow. Just for a week to try? WHITE FIELDS. (Sent by Rex Barr.) In the winter time we go, Walking in the fields of snow, Where there is no grass at all, Where the top of every wall, Every fence and every tree, Is as white as white can be. Pointing out the way we capie, Every one of them the same, All across the fields there be, Prints in silver filigree, And our mothers always know, By the footprints in the snow, Where it is the children go. ♦ THE TEA PARTY. (Sent by Betty Ashton.) Dollies dear, be good, And let me dress you, do. Mary Ann is coming to tea And she’s bringing her dollies too. The blue dress for May, The tie for Golliwog, The red silk one for Black doll, A pink bow for spotted dog. Now, are you ready? You can sit upon that chair, And wait till Mary Ann comes in With her doll and Teddy bear. I hope, dear dollies, That you all will be good, And say “please” and “thank you” nicely As polite little dollies should. MY PONY. (Sent by Melva Reynolds.) I have a little pony, To school on him I trot, He has a silver mane, and tail, And on his head a spot, One day he was so naughty, He bolted down the track, And I had all my work cut oUt To stay upon his back. TWITTER TWEE. (Sent by Lucienne Mehrtens.) “Twit twit twitter twee,” Sang a birdie on a tree. “Little maid with eyes of blue, Shall I sing a song to you?” “Yes! dear dicky, blithe and gay, Sing a song to me to-day; Sing to me a merry rhyme Sing the joys of summer time.” Then the birdie sweetly sang, Till the woods around him rang, And the Self same song sang he, “Twit twit twitter twee.” UNDERNEATH THE CLOTHES. (Sent by Veronica Karalus.) I’m sure that no one ever knows The fun I have beneath the clothes; I snuggle down inside the bed, And cover all my face and head. It’s perhaps a coal mine, perhaps a cave, And sometimes when I’m very brave, It’s Daniel’s Den, with three or four, Or even six real lions that roar. It’s most exciting how it goes, The road that leads beneath the clothes; You nevef can tell just how it ends, Because, you see, it all depends. MY DOLLS. (Sent by Tessie Gill.) Matilda is ugly And battered and old, Anita has beautiful ■ Ringlets of gold; And I’ve loved Matilda Since I was just three, But dad brought Anita From London for me! Now when I go walking Round by the lake— Anita—Matilda— Which shall I take? WISHES. (Sent by Dicky Boy.) I wish I were a . daisy, A-bobbing in the sun; I wish I were a little horse, Let loose to prance and fun; I wish I were a swallow, But most of all I wish That I were swimming in the sea, A silver-speckled fish! Oh, if I were a daisy, I’d nod and bow all day; And if I were a little horse, I’d gallop far away; I’d fly—But, oh, I wish That I could frolic in the sea, A gleaming, darting fish!