The Connoisseur
He was a connoisseur of beauty
But not of the usual kind
He could see the beauty within
Which all the others could not find
When he gazed upon a woman
He saw the sparkle of her soul
With his sweet and knowing smile
All her virtues he would extol
His eyes drank in the loveliness
That she'd cloistered within her heart
with words dipped in affirmation
he painted her: a work of art
He saw the aura of beauty
That shone brightly around her face
In each line of her full body
Sheer luxuriance he could trace
The connoisseur was an expert
At making her feel divine
In her ear he gently whispered
what made her exquisite, fine
When he had drunk in her beauty
He held on to the shapely glass
In his mouth her textured fullness
His rating? Certainly, first class!
The bottle that she had come in
was now trembling in his grip
And craving just a little more
Tilted the bottle to his lip
He licked the luscious last drop
Inebriated by her taste
A connoisseur of real beauty
he would let nothing go to waste
And so once more she was poured out
To the connoisseur of her soul
She gave him what he desired
the wine of love had made them whole
For Chase's the Connoisseur Contest
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