A PRAYER FOR PEACE

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1067, 3 September 1930, Page 14

A PRAYER FOR PEACE

(First-prize Poem.) Lord, from the chaos of a thousand years, Out of an age of hate and grief and pain. We. who have stained with blood Thy lovely earth. Scorning the lesson of Thy lowly birth; We, who have fought around the wide world’s girth. Are warring once again. Over the earth which spins in giddy space. Held to its counse by silken threads of fate. Nations have sworn to fight this war. nor cease; Men have for weapons dreams which shall increase; We. in the dawn, are fighting now for peace; Our enemy is hatel Out of the night which lay so long on earth. Golden the dawn which sweeps the skies above; God grant us strength to win this fight, we pray. For those who lost, and those who went away. And for whose sakes a crimson poppy spray Crowns one great cross of love. Lord God, Whose eyes have seen men’s sufferings. Lord God, Whose ears have heard war’s shout increase. Bend Thou and forge the nations in a chain. Teach them from hate and murder to refrain. Make each a link to strengthen, hold, sustain The golden chain of peace! —Red Star (Jean MclndoeO. POETRY COMPETITION The results of the last poetry competition are as follow; First prize: Red Star (Jean MeIndoe), 437 Victoria Street, Whitiora, Hamilton. Second prize: Harvest Moon (Alma Chamberlain, Rata Street, Riccarton, Christchurch). Highly commended: Flying Beetle (Leslie Crago, Ta*<apuna); Bird Lover (Isabelle Ashforth, Royal Oak); Dream Cload (Isabel Trebilcock, Sandringham); Lone Drifter (Ida Moore, Moajnt Roakill); Drifting Feather (Gwendoline Taylor, Auckland). WAIT FOR ME (Second-prize Poem) Don’t go so quickly, for the wind is calling, As he ruffles through the newness of the grass, And the wattle, with her fluffy yellow bubbles. Waits to shower them on my hair as I pass. Wait for me ... I am coming .*. . though the birch trees With their new pale leaves bid me stay, And the frail pink blossom buds are quivgring So softly that I daren’t steal away. The primroses, a golden carpet weaving. Are raising starry faces to the sky, While quiet-eyed, the daffodils are blowing, And lazily the thistledown drifts by. Don’t hurry, for the dragonflies are tilting. * The blackbird shouts his song beneath the trees, The violets are breathing magic fragrance ’Mid the grave beauty of anemones. Wait for me ... I am coming . . . though the willows Wave to me proudly from the river’s brink; And gnats are dancing gaily in the shallows, Where brown-eyed cows come slowly down to drink. The poplars on the sandy hill are silver, The shadows there are velvety and black . . . But wait, oh, wait for me; I am coming. It is Spring who is holding me back. —Harvest Moon (Alma Chamberlain) FOR WISE HEADS Word Diamond: 1 — The beginning of bird. 2 Skill. 3 The staff of life. 4 Tawny. 5 The end of bird. * * * Word Square: 1— Above. 2 A girl’s name. 3 Periods of time. 4 A coarse file. * * • Answer to last week’s word diamond: N. Hop. Noble. Ply. E. Riddle-me-ree: Thelma. THE SPRING LADY In my drifting I have been watching the Spring Lady making ready for her visit to the earth. She looks so delicate in her pure white robe as she glides about her work, filling baskets with the daisies that so soon she will be tossing in the green fields, where they will lie like so many little stars. From behind a tree trunk I have watched her mixing different shades of green. There is the green for the willows, the green for the grasses—there are a hundred different greens, all fresh and new. Of course, they are in the form of powder and, when the time comes, the Spring Lady will fling it far and wide as she glides through the moon-bathed meadows. —Lone Drifter.