#TasteOfMemories
In the warm heart of summer, we'd gather around,
Where laughter and hungry giggles abound,
At grandma's old house, where memories grow,
Under banyan shade, in the noon's soft glow.

With taro leaves spread, she'd start her craft,
Smearing the spice with a grandma’s laugh,
Rice and spicy ,sour, salty coconut, jaggery sweet,
Mixed with hands, her rhythm, her beat.

Stacks of green rolled in her seasoned embrace,
Steamed to perfection, a savory grace.
We’d watch, eyes wide, in eager delight,
Knowing each bite would taste just right.

One by one, we’d sit on the floor,
Hands stretched out, asking for more.
She’d serve us curd rice with pathrode hot,
Each little hand with a steaming lot.

Around her, we gathered, a hungry parade,
Sharing stories as flavors fade,
Her food, a love that nourished us deep,
In summer’s warmth, memories to keep.

Now grown, we carry that taste in our soul,
Granny's pathrode, filling us whole,
A taste of home, of love, and sun,
In every bite, her care lives on.
#food #poem #nostalgia

© Smiling Soul