I’m not much of a poet it, though I do enjoy it. When I do pen a poem it’s almost always humorous (hopefully), somehow irreverent and structured. Poetry really does reflect our inner selves.
This is another poetical pondering to celebrate poetry month.
If I Had a Beard
Beards are wasted on men, I say,
though it’s just my opinion, I know.
If I could sprout hair from my bottom lip
what a fantastical thing I would grow!
I would dye it and twist it and bedeck it in beads—
string tinsel and seashells throughout.
I could spike it when angry into stiff lightening bolts
and how it would enhance my pout.
Yes, beards are wasted on men, I say,
when they just hang them plain or shaved clean.
A beard adorned lady would be such a sight—
an intricately facial haired queen.