Beauty Shop Poem by William Coyne

We working in the commerce of Beauty,
forge and find our way to set up our shop,
find ground to gird our loins, pursue our duty,
and work long passed the hours our fingers drop.

Misers divide the labor of many
long hours into the minute minutes,
to measure every shiny penny
that builds the wealth and all the value in it.

Philanthropists having more than their share,
distribute freely in the market square,
to mild scowling of some fledgling merchants,
but who charitably suppress their rants,

And we struggling marketers in between
exchange our wares for modest fares,
and live on, and pass on, what we can glean
from Beauty, to which we lovingly cling.