Blue, white, and black
Spinning a spell
Casting it in a glance
Sitting in the wind
Smiling back
A dash of red
A shade of fresh wheat
Even the colours seem fragrant
What if the tresses sway
Will the fragrant flowers burn
In what seems like a rendition of flame
Or shall they gently fill the senses
Like oudh burnt
In the long halls of castles
From times gone by
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