The faint smell of rain wafts through the air. A pre-dawn shower has left the world cleansed. A cool breeze blows by, causing goosebumps rushing through your arms. The sun climbs the horizon slowly, it illuminates the sky with soft pastel blues and white fluffy clouds. A new dawn, a new day. Dew hangs from the leaves on the trees, relishing its last moments before the sun rises and bids goodbye to the earth. The world is quiet and still, if there was a moment on earth where all was peaceful, this was it. A feeling washes over you, like the new day has brought new possibilities with it. You close your eyes to the brillance around you, taking in the quietness of the morning. You catch a wift of jasmine floating in the breeze. It's sweet scent entices you, hugs you, enchants you. Your eyes flutter open, and you catch a figure walking. Like an angel floating, or perhaps a siren? Never have you seen such angelic beauty walking. Soft ebony tendrils cascade down her back, complimenting her pale irridescent complexion. Can it be, does her skin actually sparkle? The morning sun, as if motivated by this angel, climbs faster in the sky to cast its warm rays upon her. The curve of her hips, calls to you in a way that no other woman's had. Perfection? No she was more than perfection, she was more than beautiful. The swell of her breast, the pucker of her rosy pink lips, the fullness of her bottom, there was no creature more delicious to view on god's green earth. You hold your breath, fearing that if you breathe this vision before you may disappear. She coyly twists her hair around her delicate fingers as she takes in the morning sun. Her eyes, like windows to a world you beg to be part of, catches your. And she smiles, surely the sun must be jealous of the brillance of that enchanting smile. Your heart has stopped, and you are lost, drowning in a sea of angelic perfection. A realization so clear, it was if it was from god himself, this is the moment. The moment that inspires men to be heroes, painters to be artist, and writers to become authors. This was his Helen of Troy, his Mona Lisa, his Juliet. With her smile, something has begun.....
