My Kingdom For A Comb

My Kingdom For A Comb.....

On release from belly large and round,

Not a hair,

No single strand

Or straight curl,

Age of two

Curly mop,

Age of three

Got the chop

From father’s rough cutting stoke,

Then seven and above

Curly hair the girls admired,

Onto teens

Flat-tops,

Crew-cuts,

‘Twas the fashion and all the rage,

When on joining the Senior Service,

Age of 17 into navy signed,

Short back and sides 

And over the top,

A miracle short of being hairless,

At 24;

Given the news,

“You’re going BALD!”

Then at 40,

Sorta knew now not long

A wig would suffice,

And handsome devil be,

Nowadays retiring pace;

More hair on face,

No shaving there for pride of place,

On top today ,

A five o’clock shadow there,

Where a place of once

Creepy crawlies roamed,

Hair no longer shared

A use for a comb,

Now using a shiny clothe instead.

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