I think his name was Carlo, or was it maybe Marlow,
He was as handsome, as he could possibly be,
I offered him my 'head' and mentally my 'bed',
I imagined perhaps he'd really fancy me.
His fingers, long and slender, caressed my hair with tender
Manipulation, as he curled each strand,
His work was so artistic, my nerves were going ballistic,
My thoughts of 'frenzied passion' were being fanned.
His body was too near, and I hoped he couldn't hear
These thoughts that now, were whirling through my mind,
His hands were making quivers go down my spine, and shivers
Were finding places of another kind.
He asked if I was elated, by the 'hair do' he had created,
And hoped I would come back again real soon,
I stood up in a trance, and without a second glance,
Turned from him, feeling like a proper 'goon'.
He must have been only twenty, and me with years a plenty,
How could I let my hormones overflow,
I'd come in for a 'hair do' and not a big 'affair do',
I'll have to quickly leave this status quo.
© Ernestine Northover
What a great rhyme all the way through, I was going to say funny but maybe Carlo is real I wonder? ? ? must be a 10/10/10 real good read. Regards Dave T
Enjoyed this, Ernestine..you really have the knack to write funny pieces. this is SUPERB..ha ha..like it very, very much.. love and hugs, Meggie
Ernestine, I can certainly relate... there are a lot of really attractive female hairdressers! Good write! ! Brian
For a man, a nice cold shower, but for a lady? Not sure what you guys would have to do, Great fun in this, Love Duncan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very cute Ernestine. Any men that are hairdresser that I know are gay so it wouldn't matter much! Nice poem. Sincerely, Mary