SILVER FIRE PRIZE-WINNING POEM r J I HERE'S a little spring moon hung low in the west, And a whisper of life in the woods to-night; Each opening bud by the wind caressed, Is faintly touched with a soft white light; The little new leaves are tender and green. And life is stirring in every vein, And see in the dewdrops’ sparkling The silvery fires of spring again. Faint in the heavens a little white star Gleams through the dtisk in a twinkling birth; Clear calls a bird in the woods afar, Startling the stream into trembIi n g mirth; Sudden a sound of fluttering wings! Sudden the patter of stealthy feet! Bright gleam the eyes of the furry things, Shy and alert in each green retreat. And the shrill, sweet music of wandering Pan — Goat-footed Pan with his magic flute, Steals through the woodf to the ears of man. Flows through his soul and holds him mute, Mute with the birth of a thousand springs, Deaf for a moment to trouble and strife, Hearing only the voice that sings And the hidden meanings of death and life. —Twinklefoot (Helen Shaw, Palmerston North, aged 17).
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270803.2.93.1
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 113, 3 August 1927, Page 11
Word Count
195Page 11 Advertisements Column 1 Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 113, 3 August 1927, Page 11
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