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Mustard in verse

Do not promise me of roses,
I have seen them wither.
Lure me not into loving shiulis
They make no return in summer.
I love mustard blossoms,
They shy away into seeds.
And fill the shelves of my kitchen.
They remind me of my grandma
Her saree smelt of mustard.
I remember her say, "Keep some mustard, the devil won't eye you"
I would smile and say, "I prefer meeting the devil"
She would smile through her gap tooth
And place a handful of mustard in my palms and say
"Here, carry it to your bed "
Little did she know those seeds slipped my hands way back
Little did I know, she would slip away with time.
In the dust filled corners of memory, mustard fetches her warmth.

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