Beauty Or Fantasy?
Poem By Natarajan Ramaseshan
She wore a golden yellow saree
With border of a reddish hue.
Rembrandt's portrait straight from gallery?
Angelo's sculpture turning true?
She drifted like a ballet dancer
Smiling as a morning flower.
The sharp two eyes made her a lancer
Fighting for her beauty's power.
Her sigh was music, speech was sweet song.
Looks were hooks fishing out young hearts.
Her tresses long formed a cloudy throng.
Waist, a bow sending Cupid's darts.
She came, vanquished, vanished very soon.
No maiden of this earth was she.
Was she an angel or heaven's boon,
Or my day-dream or fantasy?