CHILDRENS VERSES

Waikato Times, Volume 125, Issue 20923, 30 September 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)

CHILDRENS VERSES

JUST LITTLE THINGS A little bit of hope Makes a rainy day look gay, And a little bit of charity Makes glad a weary way, A little bit of patience Oft makes the sunshine come, And a little bit of love Makes a very happy home. CORNFIELD GOLD See! The wide cornfields are shining like gold; Heavy the ears with the grain that they hold. Cut them, O reapers, this bright autumn day, Bind them, and carry, and stow them away. See! The slow waggon brings over the hill, Grain for the miller to grind in his mill. Hurry, O miller, it must not be late. Down in the town for the flour they wait. MY WEATHER-VANE HORSE My prancing, white horse Rides down the blue sky, He turns with the wind, And races by. He gallops out West, He gallops back East, To North and to South, A wonderful beast! My galloping horse, With flowing white man, Will always return . . . He’s our weather-vane! THE ORCHARD know it was found before me All that I ever iound, Late I came in the autumn Unto an empty orchard of old and senile trees Wher winged things such at the rotting fruit With a still and mothy sound. I knew—l have always known it, Men told me of what was there, Burned grass and the skeleton apple trees, And the mould of the sweet bronze pear But the pain is as fresh and the hurt as new As the first who found it bare. —J. Johnson. A FANCY The rose in the garden slipped her bud And she laughed in the pride of her youthful blood, She thought of the gardener standing by; He is old—so old and he soon must die. The full rose waxed in the warm June air And she spread and spread till her heart lay bare, And she laughed once more as she heard his tread— He is older now, he will soon be dead. And the breeze of the morning blew and found That the leaves of the blown rose strewed the ground, And he came at noon, that gardener old And raked them softly under the mould. I wove the thing to a random rhyme For the rose is beauty and the gardener

RED POPPIES The little sweeps of fairyland sweep all their chimneys well, And where they get their brushes from you’ll find it hard to tell. But I can tell you, if you like— Because I saw today A little Brownie running by to put his brush away. He went to where a poppy grew and back the petals shook, And then he put his brush away: - You’ll find it if you looked. —By Juanita, it t MY .GARDEN v _____ r A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot! s Rose plot, Fringed pool, Femed grot—r The veriest school Of peace; and yet the fool Contends that God is not— Not God! In gardens! When the eve is cool? Nay, but I have a sign. Tis very sure God walks in mine. —T. Brown. (Sent by Mary McDonnell.) DOROTHY ANN Dorothy Ann with the visitors stood, looking demure and very good; Mummy said: “ There! Isn’t she sweet, She keeps her frocks so clean and neat! ” Dorothy Ann smirked at the patterned floor, And counted the rosebuds, twenty or more; Mummy said, “ Now run along pet, And fetch my jam. It will just be 1 set " Dorothy Ann ran as swift as a hare. But not to the cupboard she didn’t dare; Out of the house and down the street. Ran Dorothy Ann with twinkling feet. 2 With fair hair flying and cheeks aglow, Where Dorothy Ann ran she did not , know, She only knew that Mummy’s jam Was then inside Dorothy Ann.