Beautiful...

Beauty.

What is beautiful is pleasing to the eyes, pleasant to the touch and refreshing to the nose to smell.

That which brings a smile to your face and lights up your heart, is the beautiful.

The soft wafting scent of a rose caressing your skin. The barely audible sigh of the breeze flowing among its ich, vibrant petals. And the dance of the roses in their bright explosion of colors; Orange, red, yellow, white, lavender. All of them upon a carpet of green.

Isn't that just beautiful?

The reflection of the setting sun slowly sinking in the wide expanse of bright blue waters. Its golden orange glows setting your heart ablaze with a kind of indescribable peace and warmth. The soft luminous bellies of the clouds as the warm rays of the sun bounced off them, hypnotising you, lulling you to sleep.

Isn't it a beautiful dusk?

The sleek sensual curves of a woman. The way the candle light illumines her gyrating body and highlights her every move. How her hips sway you into a trance and her sultry succulent lips call out your name with such seductive softness. Her hair, flowing in volumnous waves down to her shoulders, bouncing slowly, softly. And how she bats her eyes at you, arousing all your deepest desires. And to top it all off, simply look into her deep blue eyes. How they seem to seep right into your sould and seize your heart, enrapturing you and trapping you in her thrall.

Wasn't all that just beautiful?

The pure sharp ring of steel that echoes in the night air as you draw a sword from its sheath. The crystalline sparkle of the smooth steel flat of the blade as the moonlight shines down upon it. Runic markings etched upon the blade with clear masterful craftsmanship beyond description. An air of noble greatness and superiority surrounds you as you wield this amazing creation of the blacksmith. The dense weight of steel that extends forth from your hands, a makr of commanding power, a source of ecstacy. And how snugly its handle fits into your hands, its leather binds a welcome cushion upon your grip.

The beautiful invention of medieval mankind.

The sleek aerodynamic curves of a car. Shining smooth paintjob gleaming as it swiftly streaks off into the sunset. Accompanying the passage of this marvel of modern engineering is the powerful constant purring of its thrity-two horsepower engine. You could hear those pistons pumping and the fan spinning as well as those gears running under the flaming red head of this chariot of the twentieth century. Such greatness. Such beauty.

After all that, let me ask you:

What is beautiful?