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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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The Flower Shop

Published by Susan on 08/02/2003 (3315 reads)
Because I have no garden and...

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."

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