A STEALTHY VISITOR.
The door was shut, as doors should be, Before you went to bed last night; Yet Jack Frost has been in, you see, And left your windows silver white. He must have waited till you slept; And not a single word he spoke, But painted o’er the panes, and crept Away again before you woke. And now you cannot see the hills Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane; But there are fairer things than these His fingers traced on every pane. Rocks and castles towering high; Hills, and dales, and streams, and fields; And knights in armour riding by, With nodding plumes and shining shields. Maureen Moroney.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS19310620.2.136.7.14
Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 145, 20 June 1931, Page 18 (Supplement)
Word Count
111A STEALTHY VISITOR. Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 145, 20 June 1931, Page 18 (Supplement)
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