By Haripriya

Yet my heart is sweet
with the memory of the first fresh jasmines
that filled my hands
when I was a child.

Rabindranath Tagore

carpet of parijat –
orange stems
of a childhood sky

—Vishal Prabhu, India

jasmine hedge
the sweet fragrance
of magpie song

—Louise Hopewell, Australia

jasmine breeze
a door left open
to the night

—Leon Tefft, USA

open window —
a night jasmine trails in
with the moon

—Rupa Anand, India

gentle rain
a snake silvers
the jasmine vine

Geethanjali Rajan, India

summer breeze
lingering scent of jasmine
from mother’s braid

—Mona Bedi, India

flower market
i haggle over a wilted
jasmine gajra

—Jahnavi Gogoi, Canada

mother’s hands
oiling my long hair…
scent of jasmine

—Neena Singh, India

Come, the young violets crowd my door,
Thy earliest look to win,
And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.

William Cullen Bryant