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AN INDIAN QUEEN AT A WEDDING
The queen in formal saree with a rich
Sapphire at her throat,
whose warmth augments its glow.
Soft portals of her
parted lips in which
Are formed fair-fragrant
syllables that flow
In cadences to lull the
waiting ear.
The heaven of her face,
where molten eyes
Coal-black all other eyes
transfix, with power
To focus thought,
to charm, to mesmerize.
Oh the glamour of her: so radiant,
As though a myriad of
lilies shone
Within her flesh and made
her being want
No fake adornment,
for she will adorn
Everything around her,
by virtue of
Her velvet tongue,
her quality, the gift
Of her imparted love,
inspiring love
In others who without her
feel bereft.
Thus at the wedding she outshone the bride:
Aquamarine saree,
her sapphired throat,
A most elegant
deportment, the glide
Of her sweet form on
fine-shod comely feet,
Her queenly crown of
raven hair, a presence
So goddess-like,
her golden speech in clear
Articulation, royal
utterance. . .
A Lady like a dancing dahlia
Which after dark will
murmur in moonlight,
A secret woman,
woman in silver;
By day a sunflower woman,
precious, bright.
~ Stanley ~
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