Miryelle's Hair Is Everywhere

Miryelle's hair is everywhere. It's over here; it's over there. It's on the sofa and the arm chair. It's in the dresser with my underwear. And as we clean and scrub, scrub, scrub, We find hair in the sink and tub. I look on the desk and on the mantle- Then the table reveals it on the soup handle. It's even in the corner on the toy box, And she still has a head full of brown locks. I find it whenever I drive to the plant- There on my shirt and there on my pants. And when I come back home at night, Her hair's on my pillow underneath the lamp's light. It tickles my neck; it's around my ear. Miryelle has left her kisses here. Then in the morning when we get up, I wonder what I'll find on my coffee cup. I pick up my comb, and it's there on my brush. She heard my complaint and said, "Please hush!" And as she walked around from here to there, I had an epiphany as she tossed her hair. She's a caring mother and a loving wife, And so she touches everything in my life.