A paragon of loveliness,
Venus incarnate,
she lightly and gracefully
glides her petite frame across the set
in full Technicolor.
She is a portrait of perfect poise and elegance:
immaculately accessorized like a Barbi doll,
in a wool coat and matching Sunday hat (even indoors),
a living witness to the youthful idealism
of Generation Jackie O.
Well-bred and sophisticated
yet humble and approachable,
she bears a homespun, hometown,
girl-next-door simplicity,
exuding a wholesome beauty
completely foreign and unattainable
to the self-absorbed, self-indulgent
elite of 21st Century Hollywood.
What man can resist
the childlike wonder of
her wide-eyed, Bambi-like innocence?
What man can withstand
the sweet, soothing, gentleness
of her soft-spoken words,
slowly and deliberately enunciated,
dripping like honey
from her pouty, kissable lips so fine?
O Friend, please be kind to my heart!
Do not tell me that she is but a mere mortal:
that she, like the rest of us,
ever had to face the ravage of time,
the advance of years,
and the onset of age;
that the comeliness of her soft, silky complexion
was ever tainted by the slightest mar of the tiniest wrinkle!
They say that ignorance is bliss;
so let me live out my life
remembering her only as she was
in the flower of her youth;
Let me live out my days
in wonderful, blissful ignorance.