The girl sold jasmine flowers
with bright happy smiles,
drenching the dry parched corner
of the busy street
with drizzles of a spring shower.

Her sparkling set of uneven teeth
with a dimple marked
on each dusky cheek,
flashed like the peeping sun
through a thick wall of
dark gray clouds.

I often stood watching her
as the warmth of her lips
extended onto mine,
Almost like my warm cup of coffee
hugged between cold fingers
on a chilly winter morn.

My young flower girl,
With jasmine flavoured smiles
Painted rainbows
In melancholic dark skies.