future poems
The thought of life's brevity and the matters one must deal with had me unable to avoid rhyme, which seems to like whimsy & humour. So two poems:
Given you will
die
How will you live?
What is your life for?
What will you give?
Or are you a taker
a user, a thief?
Are you happiest
in the presence of grief?
Perhaps at the last
your swansong will play;
Who will laugh last, then
with your hopes gone astray?
There isn’t much time
from emergence to death.
Live a life you can love
until your last breath.
Take charge, make a mark,
leave something of worth,
The worms will be thankful
when you return to earth.
Even then I suspect
You’ll make their plans backfire
By choosing to donate
Your body to a pyre.
Hair
If I don’t find the hairdresser
there will be enormous displeasure
ruining an otherwise perfect day.
The bride and groom resplendent
the bridesmaids divine
bride’s parents a vivid display –
But I with my frizz
spend the day in a tizz
simply wanting to run, run away!
No style, no panache, no pride
for the groom. He’ll take me aside,
my son, and he’ll say –
“You’re always unique
but not at your peak
even now, on this special day.”
And all for the want of a hairdresser’s
touch,
the expert who’ll make smooth what’s rough
with comb, pins and rigorous hairspray.
Re second poem — I think what you need is a wonderful cut, so you look like you, only ultra-cool. :) But yes, it still depends on finding THE hairdresser!
ReplyDeleteI suspect you're right about the cut!
ReplyDelete