Smell of Jasmine
She hands me the flowers with a shy smile,
that pretty little girl of nine,
stop by their shop each Friday for a while,
to buy woven strings of jasmine.
She is always there by her mother’s side,
little fingers deftly weaving,
in two and threes she ties jasmine buds wide,
she waves to me as am leaving.
Jasmine adorns women's hair on Friday,
a tradition in Hindu homes,
For wife and daughter I buy on my way,
for their jet black hair neatly combed.
as years roll by old memories I weave,
like white jasmine buds on a string,
to university my daughter leaves,
to be a doctor on her wings.
twenty-fifth birthday we throw a big bash,
family and friends come to dine,
for food, sweets and drinks spend limitless cash,
and a few baskets of jasmine.
candles and cakes and happy, cheer and laughs,
her medical friends wish and sing,
one of them I recognised half and half,
once a girl with jasmine string.
Written 24/06/2021
Surprise me poetry contest
Charles Messina sponsored
10,8,10,8 syllables abab rhyme sequence
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