The Boy Who Wouldn’t Stop Playing With The Umbrella
March 18, 2019
The Boy Who Wouldn’t Stop Breaking Toys
March 18, 2019

The Boy Who Wouldn’t Have His Hair Cut

His hair grew longer, with each passing day.

His mother insisted he have it cut, straight away.

She dragged him screaming, along the street,

He dreading, the tight towelling sheet;

And scissors, striking his sensitive head,

Leaving hair on his skin, to itching led.

Suddenly in front of him, was his granny dear;

She told him of a place, where he would have no fear.

Could sit in a plane seeing places in his mind;

Whilst his hair would be trimmed, he’d find.

A blower would blow, all the bits away.

An hour later, with shorter hair,

Be given a sticker, to take away.

The Boy thought, he’d give it a try.

On meeting the barber, he wasn’t shy.

Sat quietly and still, in his toy plane,

Whilst the hairdresser cut, short his mane.

Ever after that, his hair is neat,

A boy with tidier hair, you couldn’t meet.