When we gaze in the mirror while shaving
We mustn’t get too uptight
Though the sight makes us weep
Beauty’s only skin deep
And we’re bound to look better tonight.
Sparse locks on an over-wide forehead
Where once clustered nonchalant curls,
If dissuaded from roaming
By judicious combing
Just might deceive shortsighted girls.
We’ve always had finely drawn features
But the nostrils in that Roman beak
Which in wild youth would flare
Are today full of hair
And constantly, saltily leak.
Our eyes, which held Loves sweet secrets
Were mysterious, soft – dark as night
Niw they’re bloodshot and runny
And one’s a bit funny
Looking left when the other looks right.
These firm, chiselled mouths show good breeding
But today they can spoil adventures
For though you feel sporty
It’s hard to be naughty
If you find you’ve forgotten your dentures.
Girlish breath in the ear was exciting
In our youth, we recall with nostalgia
But now, poor old mugs
If you blow down our lugs
We’ll get an attack of neuralgia.
But it’s wrong to be introspective
Giving too much weight to the truth
Lets stop shaving today
Chuck our razors away
Let beardy revisit his youth.
My father wrote a lot of poetry, some serious, some frivolous. I offer this one for those, mostly males, feeling a little less than brisk just now.