Page 21 - 1930

TWILIGHT
The curtain of dusk is falling down
On the dusty landscape Of earth lJ·elow
In the distance is heard the rook and
crow
While .the rohin warbles his evening song. The night is coming and it won't be long, Till the lamp's pale light thro' the win-
dow's show.
Till the stars creep out and the night
winds blow
And ·the frogs start chirping in the back
field pond.
Then will the heat of day be gone, Replaced by the coolness of early night: Then the ancient Ford of the farm comes
out.
Soon it will rattle and roll along
Past the tevy of night hawks in swooping
flight
Then sileuce, save for the treble of the
MARY C. WISEMAN.
A SONNET
When out upon the hills, beneath the skies I watch the feathered folk fly on ·their way, The swallow dip and curve with joyous
cries,
The lark soar upward with the sun's first·
ray,
I dream that I, too, am a feathered thing, Winging my carefree way through endleas
blue,
Mounting so high, the sun must burn my
wing
Flying so low, the mountain caps seem blue Then, with a crash, my castle falls to dust, I still have cares which come when gone
the wings.
No more I'm soaring in the blue, but just A human with my artificial things.
0 can't we, too, like feathered creatures
free
Soar to some higher heights and happier
cricket's shout.
be?
"THE GLEANER" 19
~oetr\'!
A DREAM
With apologies to the author of "The Raven"
Once upon a school day dreary, while I studied, tired and teary, Trying hard to stay awake one moment more
Suddenly I heard a tapping, a loud, blood-curdling stamping, clapping Of my English teacher's feet upon the floor.
"This for home-work she is coming, thought I, as nearet·, nearer, ever drumming, Came that loud incessant strumming of those feet upon the floor.
Getting nearer, ever nearer than before.
"Say your verse", I heard her mention And for fear of a detention
And those flapping, tapping feet upon the 'loor,
I began my memory quoting, as to my head came floating
Small bits of verse tha.t I had learned before, Merely that and nothing more,
I heard them in the darkness say, "We swim beneath the epic skies" And I thought of the Albatross till thetears came to my eyes-
But I could hear myself no more for that tapping ou the floor Was so near I shook all o'er and I looked towards the door
For escape and nothing more.
Then I looked again, but no-yes, the dream had not been so
For my friends around me fluttered, so relieved was I, I muttered,
"Just a dream and nothing more."
MARY C. WISEMAN, 1930.