A dame in a white saree,
The raindrop-sprinted wrap folds her,
Veiling the pottery-molded figure,
As she passes the trees flutter in glee.
Frills from the hub flowing down,
Wavers like bellows of an accordion,
Harmonizing the wary paces,
They fiddle with the watery air.
The tail damped at the end,
Of the waterfall-like robe,
Cascades from the shoulder,
And sprawls on the ground.
She treads evading puddles,
With an eagle-eye and supple moves,
She holds the stubborn bellows and the tail,
With the whole of life’s wisdom she mustered.
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