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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