The Haircut

They sat me down upon their chair Anxiously and impatiently I sat there Nervous was I, so I whimpered out a sigh But I was ready for them to cut my hair. The hairdresser she talked to me for a bit I felt happy and handsome I must truly admit She felt my hair, as the patrons did stare As upon that swivel chair I did sit. I was then taken to the Shampooers sink The Hairdresser shampooed my hair as I did think I spoke, but I stalled, happy I am that I am not bald So instead I gave my hairdresser a happy wink. I was then led back unto my chair I smelled the scent of her perfume in the air I was then afraid, as I saw the tools of her trade But she promised me all of her loving care. Clip, clip, clip the scissors I then did hear So close was that sound was to my ear My hair it fell, from my head it was expelled As I watched her craftsmanship from her mirror. Then not long later she finished her job I looked at my hair and I gave her an appreciative nod She then finished the clip, I gave her a tip At her work and gentleness I was both pleased and awed. RANDY L. McCLAVE