Because I have no garden and
No pence to buy,
Before the flower shop I stand
And sigh.
The beauty of the Springtide spills
In glowing posies
Of voilets and daffodils
And roses.
And as I see that joy of bloom,
Sad sighing,
I think of Mother in her room,
Lone lying.
She babbles of the garden fair
Her childhood knew,
And how she gathered roses there
In joyous dew.
I shiver in the street so grey,
Yet still I stop;
In gutter grime it seems so gay,
This flower shop...
'Oh Mister, could you spare one rose? '
(There now, I'm crying) ,
'For Mother,- every blossom knows
- Is dying.'
The Flower Shop
Robert William Service
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Poem topics: beauty, childhood, joy, rose, sad, room, street, stand, bloom, flower, mother, I love you, I miss you, garden, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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