Poets' Corner

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 31, 29 April 1927, Page 10

Poets' Corner

WHITE FROST (Written for THE SUN.) This way and that way , my Lady goes, Silver, like a silver rose. And Silver buds on silver stalks Turn to watch her as she walks. She steps from silver-silent eaves, And silver rims the ivy -leaves; She lightly stoops—and every tree Is hut a silver filigree. The hedges and the fences shine, Silver-coated, silver-fine, And lines of silver footpath lie Beneath a blue and silver sky. With silver swords of silver grass, And stars like hits of silver glass, All silver like a silver rose, This way and that my lady goes. NORA L. STACEY. Auckland. THOUGHTS UPON THE 4 GIFT OF AN OLD HOUR GLASS (Written for THE SUN.) Streaming sands a-leaping, Sifting to a pile — What old wizard craftsman With his cunning guile Locked you in for ever, Chuckling-all the while f In the failing twilight Did some gentle dame, Plying her swift needle, Set you hy her frame, Watch your shifting level Till her respite came? Did some poor apprentice Raise his longing gaze From his weary writing To your twisting maze, Splutt’ring quill a-driving Through his livelong days? Did some congregation On a morning fine Watch you on the pulpit Of some stern divine, Hate your steady motion And the Roundhead’s whine? Maiden, 'prentice, Churchman, You have had your day. Time, you thought went slowly — The glass would say you nay. Still the sands run smoothly Now you've passed away. C. S. PERRY. Christchurch.