On fineries, a woman has to wear,
passionately they discussed;
the name wasn't mentioned
though you were that woman
I was aware

A pendent in the  central parting of hair
claiming aloud attention, top most
and a necklace, the kind
that turns all heads
worn around the neck
like lightning flash

Twinkling studs
on both sides of the nose
that attract and stun men folk
like two resplendent stars
in the clear morning sky.

Armbands on both arms
bejeweled calling attention,
bracelets and bangles
all that she could elegantly carry

waist band highlighting artistic skill
 and her slender middle,
a belt in gold, a string of pearls,
the best of all worn by an Indian girl.

On her dimpled navel,
itself a work of  nature's  fine art
would shine a diamond
winking wantonly at every man.

Discussions on fineries went
many days on and on
I felt proud and contented
as she deserved all this and more.

But at the moment of truth
everything went up side down
"Who said she is the one?"
They had the temerity to ask.

On the illuminated podium,
a flower caressed by butterfly eyes,
she stood pale but smiling
still stunning without a bit of finery