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No. 57 (December 1966)
– 52 –


In this new section, Te Ao Hou plans to present topics of particular interest to younger readers, and to publish original work in art and language. Young Maori men and women will write about their careers, giving information to those considering what occupation to take up.

The editor would welcome contributions, and suggestions of other topics for this section.

Art work would need to be in black and white.

Poems, stories and short articles will all be acceptable.

Pakeha Boy

I wonder if they still go eeling in the deep, clear river, at dawn, when the sun sends its golden rays to the valley, over the great range.

I wonder if they still swing over the river, by the great, thick rope-like creepers.

I wonder if they still wander in the bush, aimlessly.

I wonder if they still build tree-huts, small, leafy and strong.
I wonder if they still climb the look-out tree, tall and majestic, with a commanding view of the whole valley.

I wonder if they still bathe in the swimming hole, black tranquil and cool.

I wonder if they still explore the glow-worm caves, dim, eerie and strange.

I wonder if they still listen to the tales of Rangi, the old farm worker.

I wonder if they still listen to the morepork as they lie huddled in bed at night.

I wonder if they still remember me.

D. C. McInnes, Form 6 Palmerston North Boys' High School

The following poems are selected from several sent in by the Headmaster of Moerewa School, in the Bay of Islands. They are the result of a ‘Language through Art’ programme, a development of the Maori Studies scheme mentioned in Issue 54.

I Walked On …

The dawn was new,
I walked on …

Through a haze of mist
I saw a new world …
A white world.

In a trance-like
Wonder, the white world
Covered over.

I was alone … So …
I walked on.

As the mist cleared
There sparkling before
My eyes was another
World …

The sun had been playing
On thousands
Of drops from the
Morning dew … But then
I walked on … !

Raemon Parkinson, 13

A Frosty Morning

Gazing out the blurry window
With shivering thoughts
I see the ice on the lake
Lying like scattered glass.
Soon the sun will come
And melt it away.

Sandra Reti, 13

The Cold Frosty Morning

The frost stretches
Itself across the
Flat land.
Everything is quiet
Everything is still
Everything is white
With snow upon them.

Willie Nathan, 12

– 53 –

One Frosty Morning

As I was walking across the grass,
It was so stiff that I walked on the tips.
The puddles on the road were full of ice.
And everywhere I could see the mist
But the sky was nowhere in sight.

Lynette Broughton, 12

The next two poems are written by pupils of Whanau-a-Apanui Maori District High School, Te Kaha.

The Stormy Sea

The deadly bellowing waves
Crashed down with a
tumultuous bang!
Their fury was like a wild bull.
The expanse.
The driftwood.
The roar of gulls.
The choppy swelling sea.
Breakers rose mountainously,
and crashing towards the land.
Its destructive
Temper and gigantic waves
tossed; a many-armed taniwha
And plundering
into a merciless spin.

Maudie Kemara, 5A

Pohutukawa Tree

Dominating the scenery
the vigilant pohutukawa sways
stately in the breeze.
It grows
despite the storm's rough-handling
though snail-like its movement.
Gnarled, but lovely—
resplendent as
it puffs up,
blossoms out, colourful,
breathes perfume
beautiful its scent.

John Wharepapa, 5G

Northland College pupils too are doing excellent language work. Here are a few of the many poems recently received. We hope to publish more in future issues.


Leaving the hot room,
A cold feeling embraces me,
My hair stands …
Like bristles on a hedgehog.
Goose pimples dot my clammy skin
I freeze in my tracks—
A white figure dances in front of me.


Red were the embers
As we sat near our flameless, hot-coke fire.
The room was clammy with hot, steamy air.
Windows were all misty,
Like fog in a valley,
Just above a lake.

Wiremu Andrews, 5 R.B.


Looking at this sour body
Its crinkled face forms a sneer
Which makes me freeze all over
As if it were a ghost
Choking me to death.


Red-hot flame leaping to and fro
As if trying to reach something it wanted—
Like a snake,
Moving its head back and forth …
Hissing viciously at its prey.

Wana Maihi, 5 R.B.

– 54 –


Chills tingling the spine,
Numbing the body.
Like a revenge-finding soldier
The white sheet of snow
Hurriedly snuffs out the match-flame.

Frank Waa, 5 R.B.


Cold …
Melting through the body
Like a knife cutting away the flesh.

Glen Whautere, 5 R.B.


Slowly, slowly
Like a swing swaying in the breeze …
Then gone—like the wind.

Marara Pou, 5 R.B.

A stall demonstrating Trade Training schemes for Maori youths won first prize for ‘greatest impact on the public’ at the Whangarei Winter Show last June. Carpentry, motor mechanic and electrical trades were featured, with boys demonstrating their skill and answering questions. Photographs of boys training in other trades were also displayed.