Curls: Summer Prompt Week 7 (What makes you different?)
Curls that bounce like bronze ringlets
Spiraling around my face
Like slinkies falling from an unknown sky
To weigh on my shoulders
Pooling in a sea of brown waves.
My straight-haired friends love
To run their fingers through the wiry mess
And stretch the rings until they’re straight,
Then release, laughing as they spring back
To their original corkscrew shape.
When I was young I used to hate
This matted mass of curls,
That stuck up like a lion’s mane
Immune to brush or comb.
I begged and pleaded to finally buy
An iron, flat and hot.
Hours of careful clamping
Yielded stands soft and sleek
Completely unknown to me.
But step into the humid world,
And moisture will prove your folly,
That heat and gel and designer products,
Cannot tame nature’s wig
And prevent frizz from growing.
So one day I made a decision
To embrace this wild mane,
And not to pine for another’s shine
Glossy on the pages of a magazine.
Now my curls flow freely
With the occasional help of mousse
To shine in their own haphazard way,
Framing my face by a wavy crown,
In twirling layers of golden brown.