Tonight I feel the urge to rhyme
Hair needs cutting, long past time
With a challenge attached
A before and after
Give me some prose
that brings me laughter.
The prize is for writing
Make those words sing
You may win "On Writing"
by the awesome Stephan King.
A TRIO OF HAIR CUT POEMS
Scissors in hand
I lift, snip and clip,
My hair cries out
Not you, again!
I run my fingers through my hair
My thoughts never linger
Clipping through, feeling fair
the haircut's a hum-dinger!
I knew a lady, old and fair
who delighted in cutting her very own hair,
Not for her the beauty shop,
With forty dollars at one pop,
Scissors were cheaper by the pair.
JOIN THE FUN
Be a follower.
Try your hand at poetry in the comment on this post.
Deadline is January 19th, my daughter, Melissa's birthday.
Melissa is a stylist and will absolutely freak when she sees my cut.
18 comments:
What a great do !
No more hair in the stew.
You ask me to rhyme
This is the wrong time
It is not even nine.
I need more coffee
maybe you can cook me breakfast.
That would be wonderful!
I prefer a cook to a book.
All kidding aside. I don't see any snow as yet.
I have no poetic talent, alas. I am fond of a decent cut though.
I love the new do. I think I'll pass on entering and writing the poem since I have the book and love that book--by the way.
I will check back to read them though. What fun!
hair in face and hand
scissors in other hand snip
stylist says, I see.
Poetry confuses me, lol. I am not good at it.
However, I too need a haircut. Just can't decide how I want it to look.
I'm a fan of short, easy to care for though. :-)
I have long hair
thank goodness it is all there :)
They say gray hair is a sign of worry,
but I think it's a matter of not dyeing your hairy!
Oh, that's just aweful! Haha!
My hair is short too,
for us no styling goo.
They say be patient
But I want no maintenance,
With scissors and shears
Please take it way above my ears.
That's all I got, I'm no poet :) But we have the same hair cut :)
Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow
Here I set all alone as my chair rocks
I took the scissors and cut off my locks
And now my hair's as short has my socks
Listening to the old clock, and it's tick tocks
Here I set all alone, as my chair rocks.
Wondering, where are my socks?
They're under the chair
Underneath all of that hair
You will find a pair
As you set alone in your rocking chair.
Sorry, that's the best I could do.
BTW... My daughter was born on January 19th also, and she is a stylist also. It's a small world.
Winter is not my poetic season. (Shiver but grinning). Haircut? Easy, I just take out the clippers and give myself a real short crewcut. Hm,come to think of it my beard is getting a little long - but I'm going to wait for warmer weather before I bring it down to size. ATB!
What I wrote didn't turn out very well so I'll just say congrats for cutting your own hair. I usually get my done but I've been known to cut and even thin it myself.
It looks better when I got get it done.
I cut my husband's occasionally but more and more he's opting to go have his cut. Wonder what that means?
You can't really go wrong. Hair grows back out. So I say, Go Gail.
These bangs of mine,
Have crossed the line,
It's so hard for me to see!
So with scissors in hand,
I take a firm stand,
I'd love to be able to see me!
Bobby pins and spray,
Have been the only way,
Of making it through the day.
I sure hope this works,
It's one of my quirks,
Saving money is my forte.
So a snip, snip here,
And a snip, snip there.
I truly hope I haven't ruined it!
But it turned out okay,
After doing it my way.
But daughter is gonna have a fit!
Now my eyes really shine,
I feel younger and devine,
At my age it's not a big crime!
A shake is all it takes,
No more styling headaches,
And I did it without paying a dime!
I won't try my hand at poetry. I'm not very good at it. I think you are brave cutting your own hair. I'm not sure as to the job you do. A stylist may do a more flattering job, but you do insist. You are an impulsive woman when you get a pair of scissors in your hands.
I won't enter as I already have On Writing, but you've inspired some great poetry!
My hair marches across my head.
Left face. Right face. Full speed ahead.
A hair platoon, in disarray,
With soldiers who will not obey.
Some stepping here. Some strutting there.
Some standing straight up in the air
At full attention, as they please.
I’ve had enough, Hair. Stand at ease.
Obey my orders. Call me ‘Sir.’
Dismissed. Fall out!
(Oops).
As you were.
;)
PS. Mine is falling out so fast I don't even NEED to cut it... *sigh*
I've also taken the scissors to my bangs
Because it's too long the way it hangs.
I've even cut the length in back
Because fear of cutting hair I lack.
If I mess it up, I'll probably pout...
But I'll pay the hair dresser to straighten it out.
Okay, now I'm done,
Writing this poem was fun!
Oh dear! I'm not good at this!
Fair today,
Song of sorrow..
Because...
Hair today,
Gone tomorrow?
Well, at least I tried. :)
I love you. Does that get me point.
Ah well.
LOL
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