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.