BEASTLY TALES

THE BARBER

He walked down High Street to a hairdressing shop.
In front of it he came to a hesitant stop.
Through the glass he saw several barbers inside,
Buzzing and snipping, while with customers they confide
Oscar walked, tentatively, through the door,
There was a barber, shaving a jaw.
Another was happily snipping away,
Around an extravagant bouffant like hay.
The third barber directed him to a seat.
Oscar felt now that he had suffered defeat,
Because he really didn’t want to be there
To have this fool interfere with his hair.

He sat gingerly down and the barber did throw,
A white sheet over his head, don’t you know?
And tucked it in around his collar,
Looking at Oscar’s hair as though he’s a scholar.
“How do you want it, short or long?”
“I want to get it right not at all wrong”.
He set about his head with sharp cutting tools
This was no place to be served by fools.
So Oscar sat there, helpless and insecure,
The barber gabbing away as though unsure.
The whole experience was filled with trauma
A frightening snipping, dancing clipper drama,
So Oscar had to sit for a tortured eternity
Wondering if he would survive this barber shop fraternity
Large quantities of shorn hair tumbled on his shoulders
His head now protruded like one of those boulders.
You see on the beach, at the base of steep cliffs,
After sand and sea had one of their tiffs.

The barber was conversing in lively fashion
About football, obviously as obsession, a passion.
He was talking to the barber next door,
And his customer, was watching the floor,
As hair tumbled down in a steady cascade,
The barber was pleased with the progress he’d made
Oscar’s barber now said “Whoops, oh dang!”
“Your hair across you forehead is now in a bang”.
“The rest is now in bouncy ringlets and curls,
“Topped right off with mouse-stiffened swirls.”

Oscar now handed over a wad of money,
Angrily feeling that it was not at all funny,
That, now he just had to confess,
His hair was in such a terrible mess.
He walked along High Street back to his home,
Fiddling all the way with his hair and his comb.
His wife, on opening the front door,
Looked at Oscar’s hair, then looked some more.
“Did you say something to upset the hairdresser?”
“Or was he just a natural hair messer?”
“Come in, and I’ll quickly fetch you a “hat”,
And so she did, and that was that!