Indian masala

strange it be,
that i never once anything indian liked,
never their tatas dreamt of,
for in few months tatters they be,
never once their food a craving had,
too much pepper for a stomach sake,
do it any close to delicious taste?
bet pros they be from ages of chilli to date,
never much of indian culture a tiny intrigue have,
that age and height,
horoscopes and seasons,
a compatible mate can give,
such be my greatest of grandfathers,
thousands of generation from black adam born,
a habit noble thought,
now from graves bones turn,
nothing shakespearean in their now dead thoughts,
never the indian religion an admiration have,
for i never believe cows a world created,
no beings with multiple arms a people should bow to,
but a people a choice have,
in clarity of conciousness such to choose,
but for once something indian in me much has touched,
that thing in long shiny free flowing hairs,
jelly lips brown eyes a cute nose,
such a face i think about,
in a sari elegant be,
yet sexy and for the night can't wait,
such a belly a dance rocker be,
smooth and soft skin rough hand may scathe,
so be it known,
that only this be my indian fancy,
such indian masala a flavour adds,
to a dish almost burnt,
such indian beauty that i adore