Ernest
Hirsute's been my inclination,
beard, and mustache too,
I've never liked to shave my face
since I was twenty-two.
Call me vain, I love my visage,
even though I'm turning grey,
Hemingway had nothing on me,
even though he paved the way
to be a model for my kind,
though l can't be that man,
yet I'll strive to look like him,
and emulate him when I can.
Adventurer, a big game hunter?
activities I don't embrace,
the closest that I'll get to Ernest
is the hair upon my face!
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment