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Poems On / About HAIR  10/25/2014 12:28:16 PM
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  117.     

Lucy's Locks!

She sits so proud upon her bed, she looks at me and nods her head
'Your late' she says 'where have you been? I'm 93 not 15'

'Don't have all day to wait for you my days are numbered, so much to do'
'My hair's a mess please sort it out unless you want to hear me shout?

She thrusts a brush Into my hands to comb her long Grey hair
which falls with grace upon her back 'Now dear, please take care '

'Now roll my hair into a bun but gently does it please
Oh that horrible nurse Sadie how she likes to tease.'

'My head is sore for hours when she attacks me with my brush
she is always in a hurry and always in a rush '.

No time for Lucy's long grey locks which she wears with pride.
so everday I'd tend her hair untill the day she died.

I do so miss dear Lucy her stories made us laugh
she only wanted to be heared just wanted one last chance
to share her life, her tales of love oh how she liked to boast
But brushing Lucys long grey hair is what I miss the most.
 
Tracey TEE

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  118.     

Elongated Hair

She 'done gone and did it'
She pulled it out
The elongated hair on my side
Oh how I did pout

It had grown long before
Back in earlier days
I had kept it short myself
using several different ways
After time had gone by
I wanted to let it grow
I decided to give it a try
and become a freak show

I'd let it grow down to my hips
or maybe to my knees
this hair could grow up to my lips
or at least to my kidneys

She'd noticed it that day in passing
while feeling 'round my tummy
I had thought she'd just been sassing
She said, 'I'll cut it off you dummy'

I did protest then to her notion
It smelled of sheer butchery
To cut of this hair in such a motion
would be a crime to both it and me!

Then came the day when it happened
While I lay in her bed so quietly
The life of my hair would come to an end
with a tug from her hand so quickly

I had mourned it for a moment
and I'm sure I looked sad
whatever had been her intent
I told myself it could not be bad

So now it has another chance
to begin a life anew
Elongated hair please do advance
Again I'd like to see you.
 
Sean Furlong

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  119.     

The Dolls Braided Her Hair

She wove ribbons in her hair,
the gold strands mixing with the red.
It help her naivety,
her innocence until she met Kindergarten
who tore the ribbons from her hair
and threw them to the wind.
He carried distant memories
even further from her.
She lost everything to the wind,
trading it for logic and friends.
They cut her hair and threw some into story books,
burning them before her eyes.
Her dolls cried alone in her room
as they huddled together,
braiding the hair that had been cut from her head.
It made a crown of red and gold strands.
She ignored the crown and it disintegrated.
Years later when her own daughter was
talking to the dolls,
they told her about the crown.
She cried, and they braided her hair,
weaving it with ribbons.
 
Andrea Stuckey

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  120.     

Silently She's Combing

Silently she's combing,
Combing her long hair
Silently and graciously,
With many a pretty air.

The sun is in the willow leaves
And on the dappled grass,
And still she's combing her long hair
Before the looking-glass.

I pray you, cease to comb out,
Comb out your long hair,
For I have heard of witchery
Under a pretty air,

That makes as one thing to the lover
Staying and going hence,
All fair, with many a pretty air
And many a negligence.
 
James Joyce

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