WILLIAMSJI MAVELI WRITES

Beneath the stage lights' spotlight's gaze,
A canvas unfolds, a nature's display.
Not just smooth skin, a dress's drape and flow,
But henna's artistry, where wildflowers grow.

On porcelain cheeks, a sunset aglow,
Not painted beauty, but seeds gently sown.
Vines of jasmine climb, whispers on the breeze,
Henna's artistry, secrets in the trees.

Beyond the pageant's gilded allure,
Earth's vibrant palette, whispered to endure.
A touch of magic, wild and untamed,
Where ancient whispers on new life are claimed.

As twilight fades, the henna remains,
A gentle pulse, nature's whispered refrain.
Not just a pattern, but a story untold,
Of beauty's canvas, carefully unrolled.

So when you see the henna's intricate maze,
Remember the whispers, the sun-kissed haze.
For beauty's tapestry, richly it's spun,
With nature's brushstrokes, kissed by the sun.