As I sit down for dinner I think of my favorite place...
Garlic sand dunes lay upon my plate,
ready to sting my throat with its spicy flavor taste.
I gaze at the Himalaya Mountain of ice cream;
the freshness of the chill air swimming laps
around its peak.
I can feel the coolness kiss my cheeks and the
stormy wind tango with my long locks.
I soon become distracted with the lush rainbow
assortment of vegetables, beautiful saris, which will
dance to the rapid pace of the dhol once consumed.
The spice of red hot chilies and brown mustard seeds
dance ferociously, flamboyantly, furiously in my mouth
until the awaiting monsoon is desired so passionately,
like a child in the heat who longs for a white Christmas.
Here it is! As a flood of a mango lassi extinguishes
the flames in my mouth, it leaves me with a
satisfying memory of my favorite place...