BLOSSOMS
PRIZE-WINNING POEM I SAW them softly white against the night; Frail and fragrant; silvered with the dew; Wings of night moths scarce could be Of fainter hue. I saw them mirrored in the pool below; Pale reflections, floating dimly there; Nor stirred their misty pennons in the hush Of twilight air. I saw them in the golden light of day; Clouds of coral, trembling in the breeze— A million butterflies entangled there Upon the trees. SIGHING WIND (Phyllis Fitzgerald, aged 17.)
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270914.2.30.5
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 149, 14 September 1927, Page 6
Word Count
82BLOSSOMS Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 149, 14 September 1927, Page 6
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