The Lady Who Cuts My Hair Poem by Francis Michael Bacon

The Lady Who Cuts My Hair



Must get the chair by the radiator,
Never have to wait for long,
Here she comes,
I get her every time,
The relief, the joy, the loveliness,
Buzz the clippers start,
Deep sigh, relax, dream,
I feel at home.

"Hold still now",
Ah the voice I love,
No heavy chat,
Just the holidays and weather,
Her hair so beautiful,
And her touch light,
I could listen to her,
For the rest of my life.

Let's split, run away,
Find our freedom,
A world cruise, or Spain,
But I won't suggest it,
She has children and so do I,
Although she is my Valentine,
I think my wife knows,
And we can wait.

(2011, Arisaig)

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I wrote this for my wife on Valentines Day.
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