Girl from India

From south India’s shores where spices bloom

She journeyed far through mist and rain

To Wales, where hills and hearts make room 

For souls like hers, both kind and plain.

She brought the sun in quiet ways

And turned grey skies to golden days.

Through Birmingham’s proud halls she passed,

A scholar, sharp, with dreams in tow.

Then London’s rush -it’s lights amassed-

She danced through work in its ebb and flow.

Yet deeper still her spirit yearned,

For lives to help, their trust returned.

A carer now, with gentle hands

She learned with speed, with grace, with fire. 

No task too small, no heart too grand, 

She lifts the low, she does not tire.

Her smile - a balm, her voice- a thread 

That stitched new hope where doubts had spread.

She judges none, but listens deep

With honesty that does not bend.

A soul so pure it makes one weep.

A stranger first, now cherished friend,

If fate allowed I’d make her mine,

A granddaughter in love’s design 

She seeks, she learns, she gives, she grows,

A credit to roots and father’s name.

The hills of Wales, the monsoons prose,

Both sing her praise, her time, her flame.

Malavika -bright, serene and true,

The world is kinder thanks to you.

So here, my verse, a heartfelt song,

 For one who came and changed my days. 

If you could bear my chatter long, 

I’d keep you close in countless ways. 

An honorary bond I’d weave, 

With threads of joy you helped conceive.