Poems ✍️

Guess what, it’s hair-day O Lord, this week is over,
No more time to count beautiful four leaf clovers.
Perhaps Aunt Mar will initiate the dastardly deed,
Hugged unflinchingly between her legs, useless to plead..

Well there was Dora, my second hair lady, she was mean
Trying to make me look like a fabulous beauty Queen.
I knew without a doubt they had the best overall intentions,
In this part of the world there was yet to be an invention.

Strong pulling, tugging, squeezing, plaiting and curl,
A humongous undertaking for a cute black little girl.
I grimaced and went all out with a full body squeeze
sometimes I purposely tried to fall down on my knees.

My Auntie, she was strong willed, full of determination,
No matter all my complaining or constant aggravation.
Aunt Mar often played those cute little games with me,
Look in the mirror sweetheart, now what do you see

Oh my, I looked very pretty with my corn rows and bows,
A brave little girl, I can be, so I stood firm up on my toes,
I smiled, oh yes incessantly, soon we’re heading to the end
and I truly can’t wait to show all of my classmate friends.

Now don’t you dare ask about that straightening comb,
I left mine with Granma, long time ago back home.
The burns I caught upon my scalp
Brought me to tears and everyone heard me yelp

Those were the days, now gone long time
I settled in to wigs, switches, extensions and weaves.
I’ve given most up, no time to sit hours on end.
I simply wash and curl my long hair now you see
The menopause became a best friend to me.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Nov.1/2015