At guru maharaja’s appearance time this dress brings a different take
Deep in the forest green where there are leaves like prisms that show the Deities outfits in colors seen only with eyes you’ve not been granted yet
Seamstress goes to sit in the sewing room where she may beg, plead and argue with her logic that the names I give the outfits are too complicated and are way to wild
Leis of roses and petals coming in just before the afternoon nap
Passing the ratha-bhojana-vrksa with bowed heads the gecko and I cross to the southland and the secret entrance to the cyber highway. Soon exit 1402 comes along and gecko and I laugh all the way through the village to the point of the hook. Between the lakes the sufferers are missing. The natasala has a presentation of role models. We take our leave at the shop. Around the corner the reviewing stand is waiting for me to pass. The triangle is dangerous cause of the beasts and pedestrians. The redone road takes me back to the toad rood and the toad himself joins me all the way to the wharf road. The long and winding finds the ratha-bhojana-vrksa waiting for my folded palms. The sandhya is looking at his watch and thinks i’ve forgotten him.
Oh white silk is so creamy just as smooth as milk and when it’s embroidered with roses that are the touch that kills.
Have you seen the stars today? Have you looked at all? They’re on Giridhari’s cape and the front pleat of his dhoti.
While Mahaprabhu has a different belt for his bright orange pair of pants and Gandharvika’s peacocks dance in trance of her carved ivory necklace and deep red earrings.
Leis of the rose and petal combination of the thrilling day light and fine hugging the curves of their bodies.
The drizzle is relentless today even though we’ve offered our respect to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and found our way to the cyber highway. Once again exit 41 comes to lead us over the first highway to the clank of the aluminum bat. The whaler’s are inside but we keep on around to the corner and the triangle where we take leave once again. I head to the harbor and see that the windmill’s signs are gone and it’s dark inside. The wharf road takes me to the long and winding. On the way one of the folks is at the campa hatti but cannot hear my call of “Gaura Premanandi” but the ratha-bhojana-vrksa sees my folded palms and the sandhya is amazed that I’m back so soon.
Should a blue god wear white? Well since the blue of this nightdress is so close to Giridhari’s skin tone yes he should!