Now I do not consider myself the most attractive of men, but I will say that I am above average. Yet my dearest readers let it be known that even I cannot help but fall victim to the charms of a beautiful girl. Not the lust-filled, coordinated flirtations of the attainable, but the whimsical, ethereal meanderings of fallen angels. But those with dirt on their faces of cause. Or the girl who does not consider herself Beauty. But if Beast be man, than I be Beast.
I see you...more than you have noticed. The playful battering lashes of a trapped elf maiden waiting for the moon to shine so that she may let her hair flow free and her song take flight. I see you.
Let me tell you above the beauties that graced my days..
The Moon...she walked past me with a nervous glance, shy and innocent. Not me dear charmer, I am but a mortal; sounds the voice in my head. I quickly look away, but sneak another peek at her soft skin and rose cheeks that freely blush, I say it’s the heat of the midday sun, but your eyes look again and tell me it’s more than that make you fluster. But you walk away and I never see you again.
The raging maiden with flaxen hair, tempest shook and close to tears. I sit across from you and wonder what Neanderthal had made you so emotional. You catch my gaze and quickly wipe away your tears. Slight blushings fill your face, I smile to let you see that all is well and so will you be.
Amazonian: I swear I am accused with a silver tongue and smoother words than most. I fear that it will soon get me into trouble, but dear reader I must confess that, a close friend of mine has so much beauty that even the sun should shame itself. She has a graceful form and soft humble breast that are perfect. Her skin the darkest copper, smooth and glowing. Her smile infectious and her voice sweet and true...she gives her heart freely, and in another life I wish it was for mine.
The Nordic Ice Queen: Sweet lady of fair land and folk...she whimsically plays the tune of the wind and rain. I cannot forget thee. You call me charmer, dreamer and jester with your heart. Yet you plant lilies outside my door...maybe you will come and we can sing a song together and laugh and dance and cry. Your tower is that of ice but your heart of liquid gold.
The Blood Rose. I remember you, soul of my soul, and heart of my heart. For under your spell I live and breathe. Sweet, empress of the night, bound to you is my little heart. If I could catch your tease I would hold a treasure greater than diamonds. Your face more than the soul of the world...leaves me bare and cold. I will always love you. In the north of the ice and snow, you are my summer star in my winter sky. My Arwen, my evenstar...ay hoon estaliach nad estalio haan, estalio amen... (If you believe in nothing else, believe in this, believe in us). And though you will never be mine once more, remember me the boy with the five roses tea.
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