A BOUQUET OF BRIGHTNESS.

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20274, 7 April 1934, Page 23 (Supplement)

A BOUQUET OF BRIGHTNESS.

Verses and Riddles for All.

There are nuts cm the trees In their clusters of brown. And the leaves are like buterflies Fluttering down. The cornfields are golden. The sunlight is clear, And the apples are rosy Now autumn is here. *. Joyce Evans (Aicken's). . love the pleasant autumn, f'W’hen the nuts come rustling down, nd the leaves turn red and golden, And then a russet brown. - (Copied.) Patsy Phillips (Sydenham). On autumn days I like to walk The misty, twisty, quiet street, And through the fallen yellow leaves Go shuffle, shuffle, with my feet. So many pretty shapes of leaves Drop all about me where X standi Or, spinning softly, come to rest Like fairy money in my hand.. (Copied.) B. Franklin (Spreydon). RIDDLE-ME-REE. My first is in apple but not in cherry, My second is in plum but not in berry, My third is in nectar but not in bee, ify fourth is in bush but not in tree, My fifth is in jam but not in butter, My sixth is in fallen but not in flutter, My whole is the season that we like best of all. Answer —Autumn. (Original.) Ray Lewis (Aranui). ANOTHER. My first is in leaves but not in trees, My second is in youth but hot iq booth, My third is in teeth but not in leaf, My fourth is in tans but not. in moon, My fifth is in might but not in right, My sixth is in night but not in bite,. My whole is about what we ar6 writing to-night.. Answer—Autumn. (Original.) Ursula Fentunaai.

PENCIL AND PAINT Winter has a pencil For pictures clear and neat, She traces the black tree-tops Upon a snowy sheet. But Autumn has a palette And a painting-brush instead. And daubs the leaves for pleasure With yellow, brown and red. Florence Brydon (Culverden). AUTUMN.' Now golden-sandalled Autumn comes, A box of colours in her hand, A .magic brush within to give A coat of glory to the land. Oh, deftly will she change the fields Of grain to shimm’ring lakes of gold, And splash the garden plots with shade Of colour lovely to behold. Leaves, Summer left so cool and green, At Autumn's touch will surely turn To flames as bright as those that in The topaz and the ruby burn, While clustering fruit on drooping bOUghs, , t l '; In sunlit orchards, too, will flush, With colour rich aiid. jewel bright Beneath the magic of her brush. (Copied.) Billy Pearson. LEAF FREEDOM. The leaves do not mind at all That they must fall. When summer-time is gone It is pleasant to put on A travelling coat of red and gold And fly away, Past the barn and past the school, Past the noisy little pool One used to hear but could not see. Oh, it is joy to be A leaf—and free! To be swiftly on the wing Like a bird adventuring, And then, tired out, to creep Under some friendly rail to sleep. The-leaves do not mind at all That they must fall. (Copied.) Boat ten (Elgin).