My Susan Blue is waiting at the gate
She’s waiting there to go out for a walk
Her waiting bears the grace of beauty’s fate
A fate of which philosophers will talk
Philosophy of beauty bears the name
Aesthetics, beauty learned is beauty felt
Should Susan Blue go by another name
Her sense would still leave beauty where she dwelt
It’s more than what is felt or seen or heard
Come learn aesthetoception, one more sense
Much more than just the meaning of a word
It waits for you, with Susan, by the fence
My Susan Blue aesthetes her beauty’s grace
She wears it in her hat, her clothes, her face.
This entry was posted on Sunday, November 13th, 2022 at 6:08 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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