WRITING POETRY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VI, Issue 25, 21 June 1890, Page 19

WRITING POETRY.

‘ I don’t think much of ready made poetry,’ said little Simon, as he seated himself at papa’s big desk and took up a big pen which he dipped in the big ink-bottle. ‘ I’ll make my own poetry,’ said he, and he dipped the big pen again and made—a big blot !‘ Oh dear !’ said Simon, ‘ now I must begin all over again ! That’ll never do on a valentine.' So he took a new sheet and wrote : * My dear ever-blooming Rose'— ‘ I thought of that yesterday,’ said he ; ‘ I tell you it looks fine on paper I Won't that please her? Now what rhymes with Rose ? Toes—of course that'll never do ! Shows —I don t want to say anything about the circus, I guess. Nose I wouldn t care to speak of her nose. I wish eyes would rhyme ; I could write something nice about them. Froze—hoes—clothes—O pshaw ! it’s an awful job ! There goes Dick with his new dog ! Sha'n't catch him if I don’t hurry. B lieve I'll take the ready-made kind, after all. Who wants to write potty, any how ?’