The Saturday Market Poem by matsya sai giridhar varanasi

Everyday I look at that place
completely spoiled like a old mansion.
Eagles flying over the remainings
its a matter of six days slum.

Today comes the day
when the old mansion vanishes,
everything green and fresh
what a heavenly saturday

Me and my vehicle
walking through the market
feels everything green in this world,
brought into my pocket.

I smell vegetables fresh
also horrifying flesh.
Fish and Meat in the middle of green
me, passing them in a rushy stream.

Everyone out of their house
at this time.
Rushing to the market,
to get the green from them.

Who comes along on this day
expecting always a good day.
They bring the Earth
which gives us the health.

Though everything is fine,
bargaining from customers are not gone.
They sell for rate
looking always for the profit.

Here I come home with
the basket full of green.
with all the fresh vegetables
which paves in me health.