My Christmas Wish
Kiln Lane's Walk
Yesteryears Child
A Room From My Passed
A Mind Of Wonders
Poetry Poem
Within These Walls
More Poetry >>
|
HAIR CUT DAY
Its time again to cut that hair,
How those three site and stare,
Have we got to dad they say,
Slowly, as they run away.
Come down here and get it done,
Hollows out a shout from mum,
One by one the terrors come,
Now it’s my turn for some fun.
Oil the shaver wind them up,
Make you bald that’s the stuff,
No dad no they wimpier out,
As the shaver, starts its route.
Up then down round and round,
Hair comes tumbling to the ground,
Number two that’s what you’ve got,
There not bad it’s not a lot.
Not to long the first one done,
Come on boys lets have more fun,
Sure enough the same again,
How I love this cutting game.
So let it grow boys nice and thick,
You’ll soon be back to get it clipped,
Next time you’re back in the chair,
Look out for baldy; I’ll be there.
By B Kingsford Copy Write 2,004
Vote for this poem
HAIR CUT DAY
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
©2000 - 2022 ------- Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors
Sign Guestbook
Read Guestbook
|
|
[ Control Panel ]
Last 100 Poems
|
