The Closest Comparison

A cherub with a rosy face and plenty of curly hair that the breeze loved to lull, more than the daises so fair; and that was the closest comparison... to the beautiful child he once was! The youngest dreamer ever to be born with eyes as bright and lively as stars, such were his to take imagination beyond every possible dimension; and such was the closest comparison... to see himself as the beautiful child he once was! He grew up too fast with an instinct that was immensely blessed; so keen, privileged and gallant seemed that fearless kid not to be able to earn one's keep, to make perfection the closest comparison... to the beautiful child he once was! The shady paths covered by the swanky pine trees, were as dusty as any country road which needed rain, and it came without ever wishing for it; and he welcomed it by getting wet, to lose himself in its gentle peace; and what other closest comparison would he have made?... If not that of the beautiful child he once was without worry and pain! Entered in Deborah Guzzi's poetry contest Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci