Hair Poem by Hm. Nes

A newborn baby's mother pleads with God for hair to grow
Atop her precious infant's christened brow.
She wrings her hands and worries that her child will never know
Hair, and so to heaven she makes her vow:

'Dear Lord, ' she prays, 'I give my son to follow in your ways,
'To study wisdom and obey your word;
'But could you make him handsome, please, to serve you all his days,
'With lots of hair, so he won't look absurd? '

Then adolescence comes, and vows forgotten, a mother's cry
Regards the father's loathing of son's hair.
If heaven does not intervene, her precious boy will die.
'He's better bald than killed, ' becomes her prayer.

In passing years the locks do cease to fall across his face;
Instead, the eyebrows grow into his eyes.
And hair that once adorned his head has gone and left no trace;
While in the nose and ears long hairs do thrive.

It seems the mom was right to pray that wisdom grow with hair,
Just not in youth, as wisdom always shows.
The question isn't simply hair, but when it comes and where;
For wisdom's hair grows from the ears and nose.