The Florist Poem by Vidya Pandarinath

She would always at the threshold sit
And truly I never missed her
On any of my regular temple visit;
With native content and warm offer,
Of wreaths, garlands and floral
Basket for the devotees to buy,
As pleasing was she with her oral
Talent as with the dexterous tie;
Poorly dressed, yet impressive in bearing,
Ever mindless of the business or profit,
She attended on all and many caring;
While other sellers muttered a bit;
Dropping the tendered cash in a box bland,
She quickly proceeded cordially to me a sure
A profuse length of well wreathed garland
And with good-will and blown-up pleasure.
As fair things happen unforeseen
She ran in to me off her usual place;
In full breath and voice she was keen
To break the news of her wedding grace;
The man was now by her side
And they were leaving for a distant land
And he promised to be with her far and wide;
Happy and impressed as ever with the stand,
I pulled out a handful of currency notes,
Refraining me with tearful glittering eyes
"Only your wishes madam, and memory quotes"
She said, in a sincere, full heavy voice
Waving the hands, they vanished in to the crowd;
Like the full strange thoughts that glide
Leaving me behind forever to ponder a loud
In recollections as the positive surprises slide.