The Data of Beauty
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
I met Miss Universe when I was just
A boy of seventeen. I’ve never quite
Recovered from that moment. I was thrust
By accident to grasp a state of might
Because I understood a truth that most
Have never known. She showed that beauty waits
Beyond our touch. She showed that mind can boast
As Plato’s did that there are perfect gates
We never enter in reality
So called. If perfect measurements were made
We could not find the actuality
Of fragrant beauty. Hiding in the shade
Of data, beauty would remain apart,
Inside statistics of a high-crowned heart.