In a flash the wig,

Was on my head,

The parting was crooked,

And my wig was uncombed.

The lady jumped up,

I thought that it,

Was in joy,

But it was in fright.

I hadn’t told her,

That I was,

Wearing a wig.

She was expecting,

Short haired me.

Once the wig,

Was combed,

The stunned look,

Was gone,

And acceptance,

Was the word,

Of the day.


Anonymous