Enslaved By your Spice

The drooling aroma of spice

That feeling oh! So nice

Dragged him into the kitchen

Kept his senses smitten

Amazed to see his daughter

Replica of her mother

Cooking his favourite dish

Slowly tossing the fish

Tears rolled down his cheek

He wiped them off so quick

She asked, “Is it because of mom’s demise?”

He smiled, “No dear, it’s just the onion slice.”

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