BABY HANDS
I sometimes think m3’ baby's hands Are like the petals of a rose. As velvet soft and sweetly pink It gently in the garden blows. And yet again it seems to me Thej* must be butterflies at play. As restlessly, and never still. They flutter all the livelong day And then I think, when she's asleep. They’re like twin snowflakes come to rest, As, lightly, softly floating down. They gently lie upon her breast. But whether lying soft and still. Or like pink butterflies they dart, Those tiny hands remorseless stay For ever plucking at my hear.*
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19280331.2.205.13
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 318, 31 March 1928, Page 27
Word Count
99BABY HANDS Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 318, 31 March 1928, Page 27
Using This Item
Stuff Ltd is the copyright owner for the Sun (Auckland). You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International licence (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0). This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of Stuff Ltd. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.
Log in