Children’s Verse

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21200, 24 August 1940, Page 14 (Supplement)

Children’s Verse

A WINDY DAY This wind brings all dead things to life, Branches that lash the air like whips And dead leaves rolling in a hurry, Or peering in rabbits’ burrows, Or trying to push down a tree; Gates that fly open to the wind And close again behind, And fields that are a flowing sea And make cattle look like ships; Straws glistening and stiff Lying on air as on a shelf. And pond that leaps to leave itself; And feathers, too, that rise and float, Each feather changed into a bird, Even the sun-greened coat, That through so many winds has served, The scarecrow struggles to put on again. (Copied.) —Sent by Frances Parkinson. JOSEPHINE S LITTLE POEM My name is Josephine, I am nine, I am sitting by the parlour grate, And writing verses just for play About a lovely summer day, Which I was spending months ago With Betty, a friend of eight, you know. The fields were green, the sky was blue, I’m sure that Betty remembers, too. And now that wintry breezes blow, And all the world is white with snow, Though far away, her thoughts will be About the day she spent with me.