By the summer
beachside, under skies so wide,
Lalitha stands, where the palm trees bide.
In a hat of violet, bold and grand,
With a watermelon slice in her gentle hand.
The sun beats down, a
fiery crown,
Yet she smiles, not a single frown.
Juice like rubies, sweet and red,
Cooling her spirit, lifting her head.
Behind her, pineapples wait
their turn,
But it’s the melon that makes her yearn.
A pause in the journey, a slice of delight,
In that quiet cart bathed in tropical light.
Her kurta blooms like
the summer field,
In her calm, a strength is softly revealed.
Simple joys on a sultry day,
Lalitha shows the sweetest way.
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