Wednesday, September 24, 2008


Every woman knows the trials and tribulations of having her hair colored. Whether hoping to cover up the gray or trying to achieve a new "look", it really doesn't matter. If it's something NEW, translating the exact color by description or relying on a magazine picture can be, to say the least, a challenge. This poem was one of those instances when the result wasn't at all what I expected. Thank goodness I have a wonderful hairdresser who is always willing to "go back to the drawing board", so to speak, and give it one more try. Here's the conversation I had with my husband after that dreadful first attempt.

by Patty Lynn

“What color IS that”?
My husband exclaimed!
“Well, it ain't found in Nature!”
He went on to explain.

"My beautician’s described it
As his favorite shade,
But the stares and the comments
Have made me behave…

As if I’ve got something
I wish I could hide.
So I guess that it’s best
That I don’t let it slide.

It’s too dark, it’s too deep,
In short, not like me.
I want to get back
To a place I can see…

The kind of reflection,
That I recognize;
Not one where I'm needing
To cover my eyes...

And deny it’s my image
I see in the glass,
Look bewildered, confused,
When a window I pass.

What’s more he’s a PEACH
He's offered a cure.
He’s a chemist, magician,
His intentions were pure."

So I hurried on back,
Took a seat in his chair,
And watched him achieve
MY color of hair!

So warm and so golden,
For the autumn ahead.
He knows what I mean,
By "the shimmer of red”.

The highlights, they glistened
As they caught ev’ry light.
Yes, this time the COLOR
Was exquisitely RIGHT!!!!"

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