The Quaint Bazaar
I recall
Accompanying my mother
To the market on Saturdays
‘Twas so much fun
Sauntering paths holding her hand
With the dangling basket
The redolence assailing my nostrils
Of the cakes, chocolates and cream rolls
Imploring me to devour
Mom busily buying veggies
Haggling and bargaining with the vendors
Ignoring my demands
Me bursting into cherubic giggling
At the sellers
Who spoofed the eclectic offerings
With the heavy bags
Heading away towards the home
From the din and bustle of exquisite trove.
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