Junior Literary Club Contributions – Spring Term 1918

A Frosty Morning.

As I went to my window
One cold and frosty day,
I found Jack Frost had been there
And left pictures bright and gay.

For upon the window-pane
There were trees, and ferns and flowers;
And in this great big forest
Was a castle with its towers.

I then found all opening
That was not hid with leaves,
And beyond it I could see
Our garden with its trees.

And all the blades of grass
Looked just like fairy swords,
And all the spiders’ cobwebs
Looked like little silver cords.



Through the night have fairy raindrops
Danced with tiny, sparking feet
Up and down the garden pathway,
All about the garden date.

Then they joined themselves together,
Ran along in trickling streams,
Making soft and silvery music
Which I heard amid my dreams.

The Woods in Spring

When up among the woods I walk,
With sunshine bright, and cloudless sky,
I listen to the birdies’ talk
And wish that I could also fly.

The rabbit sits outside its hole,
The primrose blooms beneath the tree.
I tread upon a squeaky mole
And wish the clumsy thing could see.

I rest upon a mossy log
And watch the busy honey-bee
But when descends the evening fog
I wish I Could a poet be.


In the Wood

Oh! It is truly a beautiful sight
Out in the woods on a starry night.
When all the rabbits come out to fight
And eat the farmer’s crops.

They’ll play about in the wheat crop,
Or eat and nibble a turnip top,
And all of a sudden go off with a pop
If ever a fox comes near.

The fox he lies by the big beech tree.
He and his wife and his children three,
And they love to have a bunny for tea.
Or a hen from the farmer’s Yard.

Not far front this, tree there flows a stream.
In which the fishes lie and dream,
Or dash about to catch a beam
That the sun sent through the trees.



The Fire

Fairies, Goblins. Sprites and Elves,
Children see them for yourselves
You can see them any night
In the fire so clear and bright.

Yon can hear them Shout mid sing;
The fiery arches fairly ring,
Goblins singing, Fairies dancing,
Elves on fairy horses prancing.

When the fire is bright and red
The Fairies never go to bed,
When the fire is black and cold.
Then they go, both young and old.

J. BIGG (Form lll.)