Like Shalimar by Guerlain
Beauty is the wonder. The truth is there
For all to see, touch, hear, or taste, or smell.
The skin on young ones and their curly hair,
The sound of clearest singing of a bell
On Easter, each is wondrous miracle
Enough. The tastes on tongue of pastries from
A French patisserie are lyrical,
Bel canto sonnets these. Our hearts succumb
At once. Millefeuilles are layered perfection
More like the jewel foundations of the New
Jerusalem. Each is a confection,
A prodigy of wonder, a rendezvous
With heaven, like a fragrance made alive
By miracles, like Chanel No. 5.
