In the following poem, you will find references to Charles Frederick Worth (the father of haute couture) and Queen Maud of Norway.
Mdvanii Stirs Her Lover’s Desire!
The designers of Paris say Mdvanii is an immortal muse who lives in the heart of every artist
From her chair she imparts ideas to a grand courtier expecting nothing in return
Sitting on a silk seat containing the feathers of Zeús’eagle
The legs made from the crushed material of diamonds
She sees her master in all directions, a large man standing proudly
Yet, is trapped in a luxurious home with no one to keep her company
How can an emotional lady survive this arduous life?
Her enlarged heart and sophisticated walk enchanted the socialites of the city
Now, the reality of Mdvanii is a preserved muse for a demanding courtier
She looks upwards to see lust and creativity colliding
From such a powerful fight pearls strung with gold fall into her hands
A meager compensation for a sumptuous lady!
She sighs before changing into her evening dress
The spring season once blossomed like her marigolds
Surprising all who lounged at the saloons
As if Gaïa was splashed with the color of the forest trees!
In the corner of her room a closet with shelves perfectly lined with
shoes made from colors of the rainbow
Pink, blue, red, orange and yellow!
Each day she picks a pair to match her silk gloves
A string of pearls to tie around her waist, gold bracelets to place on her light wrists, and moonstone pins to hold her thick hair in a chignon
A refined lady has choices, choices and choices!
Twenty evening dresses made for the Queen of Norway hang from the hooks
They’re waterfalls of creamy colors from the Amazon jungles
For each one gold thread was sewn into the fabric to form a blossoming magnolia
As she puts on her heels Charles wraps a silk shawl made of crushed rose quartz around her supple body
He adorns her smooth neck with a ruby necklace so long it rests between her breasts
She barely notices this sweet gesture while applying pink blush
Her eyes in the shape of the waning Selēnē are lost in serenity
A man who drinks to squash his guilt must continue to lavish his goddess with pieces befitting the Queen of the Universe!
Gemstones smuggled from India are crushed into light powder
He sprinkles it onto white strips of cloth then smoothes it out
Although, a doubt pricks his mind, making him feel guilty for doing a cruel deed
His clients knock on the rotting door of his studio demanding their garments
Charles shoos them away as if they are wandering beggars
His mind fixated on a refined woman entrapped in his heart
He gives her potent lust to taste yet Mdvanii rejects it
What seems to be the magnificence of courtier is in fact Mdvanii!
She runs along his arms tickling him
With one hand the resplendent muse blows blue petals into his mind
To her surprise the wind snatches her white hat snickering in delight
Mdvanii’s eyes turn red with bubbling anger
She’s a cat ready to pounce a taunting mouse!
On his sewing table a large red gemstone manifests
Cut in the shape of a tulip, its sharp edge is hardly noticeable
Passion gives it color for which Charles fixates on
He rubs the edge unaware of blood sliding down the treasure
Mdvanii plays her games without giving a reason
She is a muse of few words but her actions have a language of their own
Charles will never see her inner world for he was devoured by his own
Suraiyā, or Soraya is a Persian name. In the following poem, the name "Prithivi" refers to the earth or goddess of the earth; the name ushas refers to the dawn or Goddess of the Dawn, the name Sakra refers to Indra, the King of the Gods who presides over heaven; the name Ganga refers to the holy Ganga river or the Goddess of the Ganga (Ganga is one of the holiest rivers in India and is the place where one can purify his body of the sins he committed in this life), the word "devas" refers to the Gods of the Hindu pantheon.
A Swan Who Wallows In Lotus Laden Ponds
She walks into the banquet room of the Château de Versailles feeling out of place
Such a refined lady with skin as soft as a doe’s coat
Pearls that dangle above her swan-like neck
Eyes so tranquil, flutter like butterflies in a garden
A woman who floats from room to room unaware of everyone’s presence
They look into those lotus petal shaped eyes to see a secret world
Gardens stretching for miles fill the air with the scent of roses
Uṣás cannot help but inhale this sweet perfume
Radiant marigolds bask in the Sun’s warmth
Jasmine trees stand tall to give shade for all of Pṛthivī’s critters
They lay at the base sighing for amour had consumed them
A gazelle who once nestled at the feet of Pṛthivī is now an elegant lady
Yes! Suraiyā is the child of Pṛthivī
Her hands decorated in emerald rings have fingers that flow like the Gangā
So pure and gentle men have followed her around the world just to be caressed by those fingers
They are savages who’ve succumbed to the feminine power of an untainted goddess
Yet, why does she not look at these men?
At the far end of the room gourmet Indian dishes line up a long glass table
An aroma of mixed spices travels through the air
Men who smell it divert their eyes to Suraiyā
She stands before the table delighted by such a sumptuous feast
Her hands move towards the glass spoon dipped in the dāl bowl
Ashamed by bad manners Suraiyā pulls her hand back
The host who has been seduced by Suraiyā’s beauty tells her it is quite alright
A smile transforms Suraiyā’s face like Uṣás bathing the world in light
Those eyes of her enchants the host, bringing him to his knees
His heart grew ten times with each pulse sighing in joy
A goddess has locked eyes with a humble king
An elegant lady created in the nest of the Pṛthivī looks into the eyes of many
The pain, the happiness, the frustration, the excitement, the joy!
These emotions are the colors in her gardens
And all men, women and children have their own inner gardens
Suraiyā’s lotus-petal eyes see the world’s inner beauty permeating all things
Even the sky, an ocean for the Devás, is a jewel created by Pṛthivī!
Suraiyā’s sari is fashioned from the Devás’ water
A long train from her shoulders floats above the floor as she walks around the room
All guests spend hours watching Suraiyā create a stream with her sari
The scent of lilacs flows from the fabric into their noses
Śakra’s heaven cannot compare to the moment they are lost in!
A rarity in this world is locked away for centuries but comes out when humanity has submerged in harmonious bliss