Hair Today and Gone Tomorrow

My locks are getting long

Well those that still belong

That haven’t fallen out

If only more would sprout

I’m sat here in the barbers

Between two youths in their Parkers

Flicking through pages of the Sun

Glancing at page three just for fun

“Whose next” she calls unenthusiastically 

Glancing at each other almost apologetically 

“I think it’s me?”I meekly call

Questioning whether it’s me at all

No one challenges my place in the queue

I’m told to sit in the middle pew

“What’s it going to be today?”

“Do your best” is all I can say

Short at the sides 

On the top you decide

Soon she is busily buzzing

Quite efficient simply no fussing

Politely she asks “How are you dear?”

“Have you been on your holiday this year?”

Followed by “are you ready for Christmas?”

I ask enquiringly “how is business?”

“Very good” she replied smiling

Busily sorting out  the styling

Finally she finished with the clippers

Some deft work with her little scissors 

 “How’s that for you sir?”

“Very good” I do concur 

To be fair it’s far far too late

To put hair back upon my pate

So whether I like it or not

This is definitely what I’ve got 

To suffer for the next 6 weeks or so

Until back to the barbers I will have to go!