Warm sand stuck to her soles ; the highlight, the focal point, of the day,

and the sea turned on to touch her feet again and yet again.

The wind comes running to brush past her hair and whistles upon the wave

a song that casts a spell. The white surf and her snow white apparel

are so much alike that you cannot tell one from the other.

That's the Muse for the poet's song whom the poet follows on a butterfly wing.

Sushama Karnik.