Dear boys,
"For pity now she can no more detain him;
The poor fool prays her that he may depart
She is resolv'd no longer to restrain him,
Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart,
The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest."

Venus and Adonis, lines 577–581

On the horizon beneath a dark neon blue mist, resembled the intensity of the ocean at night beginning to evaporate. Dynamic radiance enchanted the sky with the surrounding pastels, preventing the sunlight penetrating the mystic clouds. 

"He is undoubtedly your son." The nursemaid sympathetically said.  Gently raising her arms, she arched them towards the man standing beside her to have a glimpse of the baby boy.

He was peculiarly tiny, so enchantingly intriguing. Logan soaked in every minuscule feature, from the light dusting of brown hair covering the boy's head to his satin-soft cheeks, which Logan impulsively ravished, as the tiny fingers curled and uncurled just beneath his chin.

"He is beautiful." Logan replied hoarsely, as he averted his vulnerable exposure to the curious nursemaid. Slightly sniveling, the man began to whimper softly. Unwillingly proceeding to gasp convulsively.