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.
