12 JULY 1930, Page 18

A Procession

MARVELLOUS wings filled the morning : The bourdon bee from grass To grass heaved his brown sacks ; The butterfly battled with air, Adorning her wings with light. Beetles with armoured backs Flashed steel and bronze so bright That a king, it seemed, must pass For the hordes of the orchard to stare,

Raise huzzah and buzz With rustic gossamer wing, Their acclamation thus Catching sunshine, noon-sound, Hay-height above the ground, Though none quite glimpsed the king.

RICHARD Cavacar.