Ode To Hair
an original poem by Joe J Thomas
It’s on my arm here while I write
It’s on the cat who’s curled up tight
In a brush and on the floor
Swept away beneath the door
A balding patch or flowing locks
I think I found some in my socks
It covers squirrels, dogs and voles
There’s just a bit here on my mole
Growing forth from follicles
A lack can bring much ridicule
Wet, dry, dirty, clean
You all know just what I mean
Splitting hairs, the hairy eye
Hairy palms on werewolf guy
Dye, perm, trim, and curl
Piled high on a pretty girl
Styles come and styles go
And so does hair – that’s all I know
…my mustache quivered while reading this,
(the hairy lip–the bushy kiss)
An ‘Ode To Hair’ indeed, good sir!
We celebrate the mane and fur…
You’re a fur-ly good poet!
Your poet & you don’t know it …
OOPS … Your A Poet & YOU Don’t Know IT … Got it …
I can even rhyme with “orange” (but that’s a secret!)
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