Will Elsin

Soft-sweet, smooth, half-dimpled
Peaches and cream transparence
Moon-kissed sunbeams flow
And set the stars this side of heaven aglow.

This face, this face, the angels pause
In their tracks, becalmed perhaps
And all because
They see the perfection of the grace
Of Him who truly conceived a face
So lovely its evanescent gaze
Sometimes on given summer days
Outshines even their angelic rays.

Her soft brown hair's a halo's frame
Her soft brown eyes sweet limpid pools
This face, this face, the angels almost rue
The days when Renée outshines them;
But angels' natures are such in time
That well they know though she's so fine
She must be wreathed in grace sublime.

So thus-resigned they wander in
And tend each filmy tress with care
Lest one might wander out of place,
Their breath caresses those silk-soft cheeks
And helps create her loveliness.

But why do the heavens fuss
O'er this sweet lass down here with us?
What makes each dart of eye,
Each lilt of lip, express so much
We are awe-struck?

We see, but yet we do not see!
Beauty so great, how can this be?
Does she reach back before the Fall?
We cannot tell - we have a wall
'Tween us - and the wonder
Of Renée's pure soul.

© Will Elsin 2001-2

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