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Oct 2018
Bit of a scruffy scoundrel sometimes isn't it
around ones face like a lions mane it will sit,
Varied lengths shapes and colours
the growers are all like brothers.

It's not just ****** hair
some dont just stop and stare,
others want to touch the beard
maybe reading this you think that's weird.

Taking pride of place upon ones face
designer stubble there's not a trace,
like giving your pet a comb and groom
to some a shave would spell doom.

Though this may sound perverse
to touch it would be no curse,
pogonophiliacs want to give it a stroke
to others they sound like crazy folk.

Cooks we may not all be it's true
we love our women like our beards too,
adding in a little oil and sometimes butter
served to make their hearts flutter.

( C ) Grant Dickson 04/10/2018
I decided to write this random poem today national poetry day, I hope you all enjoy
Grant Dickson
Written by
Grant Dickson  55/M/Edinburgh
(55/M/Edinburgh)   
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