Poem by Norman Rowland Gale

The Forerunners

  Beside the pillar-box a girl
    Sells daffodils in golden bunches,
  And with an apron full of Spring
    Stays men a moment from their lunches:
  Some fill their hands for love of bloom,
    To others Cupid hints a reason;
  But as for me, I buy because
    The flowers suggest the Cricket season!

  Although I trouble not to seek
    A maiden proud to wear my favour,
  Right glad am I to change my pence
    For blooms, and smell their wholesome savour;
  For as I carry blossoms home--
    Sisters of gold with golden sisters--
  My heart is thumping at the thought
    Of pads and bails and slow leg-twisters.

  My only sweetheart is a bag--
    A faithful girl of dark brown leather,
  Who's travelled many a mile with me
    In half a hundred sorts of weather!
  Once more to clasp your friendly hand,
    To tramp along by Hope attended,
  Dreaming of glances, drives, and cuts,
    My Dear Old Girl, how truly splendid!

1. Buttered
2. Dark Blue
3. Out
4. Star-Gazing
5. Cricket and Cupid

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