The Stolen Day by Zora Cross

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This lovely golden little summer day 
I simply took and blithely stole away.
If theft of Time be stealing precious hours,
And squandering them like garlands of pluck't  flowers.
I was a thief this golden little day -- 
This lovely little day I lazed away.

Oakflowers were blown on every happy hill 
Parrots sped by me at their own wild will. 
And I as free, moved leisurely along
Singing myself a careless gipsy song; 
And wilful still in unrepentant rhyme
I hid the little day I stole from Time.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 20 February 1939

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on February 20, 2014 7:41 AM.

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