In the soft embrace of night’s caress,
I sought to capture beauty, pure finesse,
Where cotton weaves and threads of gold,
Reveal a story, ancient, bold.

A Bangladeshi saree, hand-embroidered with care,
Wraps around her form, a vision rare,
Each stitch I made, each thread I chose,
In this dance of fabric, my heart arose.

Her waist, a crescent moon so fine,
Emerging from the night, divine,
And there, her navel, a star so bright,
A focal point in my starry night.

With every stroke, with love, I revealed,
A beauty that the garment concealed,
In every fold, a secret lies,
In every curve, a world of sighs.

Her belly button, a sacred gem,
In this tapestry, it’s the diadem,
An ode to femininity, soft and strong,
In my creation, it finds its song.

The saree, my canvas, rich and deep,
Carries the whispers of those who keep,
Tradition is alive in every thread,
A legacy in which stories are fed.

I named it “The Starry Night,” so true,
Reflecting visions old and new,
Where the night sky meets the earth’s embrace,
And beauty is found in every trace.

For in this scene, her body’s grace,
Is framed by the saree, a delicate lace,
And in her navel’s gentle glow,
The night’s true stars begin to show.