Today on the ol' Patio Boat we truly do have a triumphant return to original poetry, thanks to this entry from our erstwhile Indianapolis Colts Haiku Reporter Mary Campbell-Droze:
From the Wigging Out dept. files
Late middle-age has not been kind,
My brightest days are now behind;
As did Mother, so does Daughter:
My hair has finally gone dishwater.
This dull dull color on my head!
Why couldn't I go *grey* instead?
No longer champagne; I am lager!
My strands of gold have turned dishwater.
The root-iness from up above
Makes me resemble Courtney Love.
A two-tone head won't make me hotter,
This hair of mine that's gone dishwater.
So now, of course, what do I do?
Shall I dye it back to my old hue?
My checkbook the salon will slaughter---
All because my hair's dishwater.
But going out in the sunshine
Returns that beach-blonde shade of mine!
Move to Tahiti? Perhaps I oughter,
To keep my hair from being dishwater.
--Mary Campbell-Droze
Speaking from the perch of old age, let me tell you, Mary, the time to wish for an exchange of the grey for dishwater is still ahead for you...
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