COUNTRY BUNCH
Many years ago we used to call at a farm and get a country bunch,
Often on a Saturday morning and then stop somewhere for lunch,
Those flowers were always so lovely, a good mixture of every kind
Of flowers that grew in a garden and a great treasure to try and find.

It depended on what time of year which fresh flowers came our way,
In late spring it always started and we looked forward to the first day
When we could watch them gather those flowers that gave us pleasure,
And it always seemed to me we’d get for our money our full measure.

First bunches of tulips and daffodils, primroses and periwinkle too,
As they gathered them most mornings they were still heavy with dew,
Then homeward bound to bring sweet spring right inside the door,
Although those flowers did not last, I always went back for more.

Then in the summer there were so many flowers that well did grow
In that farmers garden, as his great gardening skills he did kindly show,
Arms full of flowers far too many to mention by each separate name,
And if for some reason we could not get there the home was not the same,

Falls again was spectacular with chrysanthemums of every size and shade,
Laced with Michaelmas daisies, hollyhock and asters and so little I paid,
But now farms no longer sell people country bunches I am sorry to say,
Yet I will always remember the joy all those flowers brought by way.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 26 March 2004