Pradip Chattopadhyay (28.01.1961 / Kolkata)
My mouth waters taste buds tickle
When I see a jar of lemon pickle!
On the sunny roof the lemon pickle
It starts a child’s saliva’s trickle!
It still gives his conscience a prick
He played on the old man a trick!
For the old one was sunned on the roof
Jar of lemon pickle what a goof!
The glass jar stayed there all day
But the child just couldn’t stay away!
At midday when they all were asleep
Little feet climbed the stairs steep!
Made sure not an eye was watching
What joy did the sight of pickle bring!
The child such small was his need
He only had to open the jar’s lid!
Pick up one for nothing he could miss
One juicy sweet sour lemon piece!
In his mischief he did go that far
Each sucked piece he put back in the jar!
So that they would never find a trace
Not one piece of lemon would be less!
The poor old man he never knew
The child’s blended saliva in the brew!
The child sucked pickle had his fill
What the old man relished with his meal!
I know this story isn’t worth a nickel
Still I find irresistible the lemon pickle!
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