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My Loves crowning glory Is sometimes hid away Under spikes of plastic, And helmet of light grey. When heat, and setting lotion, Have finally had their measure. All is soon revealed, A result I view with pleasure. At previous times while hanging loose And Darling soothes my heart, Her flowing hair disturbs my thoughts As my dry lips do part. I catch the threads And taste them deep, Then tremble with memory, That however tight the whirls are now They are always free for me, To tousle and taste and hold, And tangle in my hands, The wondrous, waving tresses, Of glorious, golden strands. |