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Mokemoke These are our hills, Moana, But the kowhais are gone And Cherry Grove is no more, Nor the pa where friendliness Wrapped me in warm embrace. Your trim house nestles Under nostalgic hills Where once we went barefoot After wild strawberries. You do not want to rermember. You are preoccupied With your silver teapot And wall to wall carpet And console televsion. I could cry on your ample bosom, I shall not come again, Moana. Eden Conway

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/TAH196809.2.21.1

Bibliographic details

Te Ao Hou, September 1968, Page 48

Word Count
78

Mokemoke Te Ao Hou, September 1968, Page 48

Mokemoke Te Ao Hou, September 1968, Page 48

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