• Poetry

Her smile bursts forth as the sweet scent of jasmine,

suddenly sensed;

As it belies her spasm of daily labours,

“I will do it myself”, she exclaims, with each word as if born with dystocia,

The assertion transformed into arduous expedition,

of chimeric movement, and fierce resolve,

Until upon the Dawn, the physical form, wracked with contorted contracture,

rises inspired by the warmth of the Sun.