Cai 1.3

     Let a son come forth from your loins fashioned by God; first a sphere for his head; let his hair remind one of fresh-cut straw.  Let his eyebrows resemble caterpillars lightly treading his brow and a ghostly-pale path separate their twin arches.  Let his nose be straight, of moderate length, a button for perfection, with a smear of freckles across it and under his eyes.  Let his eyes, those watch-fires of his brow be cool with grey-light, or the steely calm of the barrel of a gun.  Let his countenance emulate joy: not innocence nor yet bliss but at once both.  Let his mouth be bright, small in shape--as it were, a half-circle.  Let his lips be thin like worms, yet eager to reveal a snowy, toothy smile.  Rounded like cobble let the Designer fashion his chin.  Let his neck be a small column supporting the inchoate mind inside the head expressing boyish charm.  Let his shoulders foreshadow the man to be, perfectly proportioned for his size--able to support the burdens of a boy.  Let his arms be a joy to behold, charming when throwing rocks, practicing his fishing casts, or steering his bike.  Let his chest thrumming, hold a heart tender yet strong, braving storm clouds that blow inside and across his brow, stand for the right, and desperately wanting to cuddle with his mother.  Let his spry leg be of correct length and his wonderful foot dance, climb, jump, and kick the water under the surface powering his way to the sea of manhood.

After Geoffrey of Vinsauf