Sunday, March 4, 2012

Hair Apparent

asks for a VERY brief account


 Marge: 'Her hair! A mess! Gee whiz!'
 Bette: 'I'd hate to have a frizz'
 Both:  'My hair is much the best!'
(No-one else is too impressed!)
(140 characters)



 Thy youthful face looked out upon the world
As though a life of length stretched out ahead.
And yet you faded e'er the bud unfurled;
A few brief years and, sadly, you were dead.
The age in which he lives must make its mark
Upon a poet's writings and his soul.
Thy life was brief, a quickly sputtering spark,
And we are left with part of the great whole.
And we, who follow after, living long,
Protected by great medicine from thy fate,
With extra years in which to sing our song,
Should produce poems many times as great!
Ah! But such works of art can never be!
Genius feeds upon life's brevity.


Pat said...

Ah, we women worry about our hair from girlhood to the grave! Cute poem.

I liked your observations on Keats, a brilliant poet. I wonder if he would have continued on the same high plane of brilliance had he lived several more decades.

Unknown said...

That reminds me...I really need to get to the stylist! Funny.

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

Although I agree they might benefit from a trip to the salon, I applaud their fine self-image!

Nice ode to Keats.

Grandma's Goulash said...

What a fun microfiction tale. Beauty appears to be in the eye of the wearer.

Kay L. Davies said...

Great microfiction, Brenda. (I also have to get my hair cut soon. Or sooner.)
Yes, one has to wonder about great writers who lived in a far more dangerous time. Keats is a perfect example.