The village vegetable vendor

Fashion as a general garment goes abegging,
Before the innocent, vegetable vendor’s toiling,
She in her country type yarn of length shines,
A sari of white serene cotton with a blend of sanguine red
In checks of short and interlaced embroidered,
The sari rolls her heavy body, her dark skin,
Her tawny forehead adorned by her coin size of saffron,
Her lengthy sari rolls her heavy body, the pride, the gift
The wedding gift by he sincere husband,
The green leaved basket on her head rested on a ring of mound,
Pops out and mocks at her sari.
She tucks in her six months old baby
The left side provisioned for a cradle of convenience,
The cute babe innocence, embodied sleeps,
The woman walks in a see-saw.
Her bell shaped key- chain of bells jingles, jingles,
The mermaid like hastens homeward,
She unrobes her sari to wipe her sweat,
To have a bath by the well.