An Unintended Cut

I never know when memories will come and bite me on the bum! You can be at your most relaxed and mellow then then the hammer blow comes.

The distant Pyrenees, a lovely sight.
It’s after lunch, the middle of the day,
The air is still, the sun is hot and bright,
Bob Marley quietly sings, I love reggae.

Flore’s cutting Chris’ hair, I hear her say:
“I’m doing your hair next, that all right?”.
I sip my wine and turn my head away,
The distant Pyrenees, a lovely sight.

I think awhile, my hair is long I might
As well agree, at home I’d have to pay!
And I’m relaxed, perhaps a little “tight”,
It’s after lunch, the middle of the day.

Flore stands behind and tweaks my ear in play.
I cannot smile. The grief hits like a blight.
For forty years Moll cut my hair this way.
The air is still, the sun is hot and bright.

And in a flash I wished for second sight.
Sad feelings put my mind in disarray,
The tears well, and as emotions fight,
Bob Marley quietly sings, I love reggae

My thoughts crowd in with deepening dismay.
I’ve been so mellow, how can this be right?
That one’s own mind can torture and betray?
While all the time framed in this lovely light
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  The distant Pyrenees.


If you would like to hear me reading this poem then click  here alternatively you might feel your time is better spent looking at pictures of pony tails, if so click here!!

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