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The Maharaja
The Maharaja,
his stainless, white
cloak;
the feather atop his head,
red as a rose.
His skin,
so tan;
the belt around
his thighs,
leather from a boar.
The Maharaja,
glorious indeed.
The Maharaja,
his stainless, white
cloak;
the feather atop his head,
red as a rose.
His skin,
so tan;
the belt around
his thighs,
leather from a boar.
The Maharaja,
glorious indeed.
