Wild hair


When I woke up this morning
I had curls upon my head
Wild, twirling ringlets
My long straight hair had fled.

Time for school
So wake my son
Who takes a glance
Just one –
Starts to laugh and giggle
At his crazy looking mum.

Blurry eyed and sleepy
I catch sight of myself
In the bathroom mirror
That sits above the shelf.

What’s staring back at me?
I am shocked by what I see
Such a mon-stro-si-ty.

What have I done?
Where have I been?
I thought asleep
What was my dream?

But deep inside
No place to hide
A wish reveals itself:
Curls! CURLS! CURLS!

No longer poker straight
Not lifeless
Not hanging there
But intertwined figures of eight!

The back-combing
To volumize
In my days gone by
Spiral perms, corkscrews
(Along with all the dye).

I feel a little excitement
Even though
I know
Anyone who saw me
Would think me mad from head to toe.

So I decide
For a little while
I’ll support my guise
The one that says to passer-bys

“I just got out of bed!”.

You see,
Between you and me:
My wild hair
Tells of my wild night
With my wild dreams
Which is a component
To be celebrated
Of that wild side
In me. 😉

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