Sonnets to a Red-Haired Lady - Part 26
S UZANNE , my Beard is Blue, whether I shave
It close or let it float ambrosial on
The breeze like sprays of lilac cloud at dawn ...
Blue as the tossed and curled and ravelled wave,
Reef-combed, that coils about some ocean cave
Where the coy smelt creeps to woo the flattered prawn . . . .
Sooze, what a poster we would make if drawn
Together by some cubist loud and brave!
If drawn together, Sue! The artist, Fate,
Has drawn and scrambled us in just that way ...
Wife Twenty-Six wore on her desert pate
A wig ... I tied it to an opera chair
One night; and when she rose it dangled there
And left her bald and broken... Welladay!
It close or let it float ambrosial on
The breeze like sprays of lilac cloud at dawn ...
Blue as the tossed and curled and ravelled wave,
Reef-combed, that coils about some ocean cave
Where the coy smelt creeps to woo the flattered prawn . . . .
Sooze, what a poster we would make if drawn
Together by some cubist loud and brave!
If drawn together, Sue! The artist, Fate,
Has drawn and scrambled us in just that way ...
Wife Twenty-Six wore on her desert pate
A wig ... I tied it to an opera chair
One night; and when she rose it dangled there
And left her bald and broken... Welladay!
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