A poem, a poem, my kingdom for a poem. I’ve had a busy day today, and I’m afraid a poem hasn’t arrived yet. Will I give in and forget about a poem for today then? No I most certainly will not!

I’m looking at one of the comments on my poem from yesterday, and wondering at such lovely sounding words that describe less than lovely things. Papilloma, fibroma and lipoma. What do these musical sounding words mean? They’re benign lumps and bumps, and I don’t want them on my skin! I’m thinking about growths and other things I have that I don’t want, and thinking about ways to rid myself of such unwanted things.

So, this leads me to my poem for the day. A little bit of harmless silliness, that I hope I don’t regret posting later. Hey, I’m fifty now, and I have to face up to the fact I’m no longer young and lovely, if I ever was that.

 

There’s a hair on there!

 

I have to grin at the skin I’m in,

freckles and moles all over the place,

stray hairs growing, where none are wanted –

ladies don’t need hairs on their chinny chin chin!

Tweezers are I are good friends now,

we pluck out hair whenever we need to.

It’s a common thing as we ladies age

so I grin and bear it, and always know

this problem isn’t mine alone,

I’m one of the plucky band who

pluck out those hairs relentlessly!

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