The flower seller

Nicky Bedford, Rosebank

When I’m living far away, it’s the massed flower displays I think about and the folks there in all weather.

Although we lived in Plumstead, my mom managed a flower shop, Nosegays,on Main Road, Rondebosch.

I attended Grove Primary and spent after hours, Saturday mornings and holidays in the shop, and in the van delivering arrangements.

Where Pick n Pay and so on now stands, was a row of Victorian shops, with flats above.

The Flower Seller

The flower seller’s fat, and she wears a big shawl!

She sits on the kerb with her basket and all;

The wares that she sells us are not very

And are always the loveliest things of the year.

Daffodils in April,

Purple flags in May,

Sweet peas like butterflies

Upon a summer day,

Brown leaves in autumn,

Green leaves in spring,

And berries in the winter

When the carol-singers sing.

The flower seller sits with her hands in her lap,

When she’s not crying roses, she’s taking a nap;

Her bonnet is queer, and she calls you My dear,

And sells you the loveliest things of the year.