Love Hair Poems | Examples
These Love Hair poems are examples of Hair poems about Love. These are the best examples of Hair Love poems written by international poets.
Some see beauty in machines on wheels
souped-up sports cars, the ‘real deal’
Others find it deep in forest’s quietude
pouring forth their gratitude
Some envision a world of nations at peace
wars to cease, love increase
Some find it in flawless skin and flowing hair
saints tap into souls, profundity to share
While I wait for the light to change,
more than a dozen windows fly by:
the rooms of passengers
going somewhere
While I wait for the light to change,
a squirrel is busy
back home,
away from trains,
rustling heavy branches
and dropping pears
like heavy, uneaten dreams
While I wait for the light to change,
the rain got bored of falling,
and left me alone again,
the air heavy with moisture
and dank memories
While I wait for the light to change,
I count comforts
in squares of light
rushing by
I am constantly counting trains
Your train never stops
for me
After I coach ‘Go Far’
(a running club)
I lie in the tub
and fold my wet hair
over my face
and try to breath
through seaweed
like a mermaid
enjoying the water
in my mouth.
I am not hiding
behind a curtain
of soaking brown,
but relishing
in my own privacy
and long, dark tresses.
‘All the Pretty Girls’
is playing
by Kaleo.
“Life is anything
but fair. Life
is anything
but fair.”
I love
today, and
“all the hidden”
secrets, inside
and outside this
low-middle class
bathroom.
“No one lends
a helping hand.”
I laugh alone at my own
bad jokes and puns
while I make coffee
from the breakroom
Keurig machine.
I will always
“wait, I’ll wait, I’ll wait”
for my shadow to
catch up.
I wear a hat because I've lost my hair
Folk would laugh out loud at my head so bare
Long ago my hair was thick and wavy
It was the colour of mother's gravy.
Her gravy was dark as the lumps of coal
She would light a fire with, when it was cold
If short of cash, then us kids had to sit
In the disastrous sweaters she would knit.
Often they’d be too clingy or too large
Though knitted with love for those in her charge
Mother said if we were cosy and warm
It did not matter at all what was worn.
The years have passed by, hair has disappeared
The worst of it is, it's cold on the ears
But my mother, bless her, before she left
Knitted a draw full of hats, socks and vests.
Me in love with my cluster of hairs
since I was running in my teens :
Curly, deep black, thick bushy,
also lengthy reaching my waist,
drawing attraction and admiration.
Felt proud paying reverence to hair.
On ageing owing to hair loss,
bound to cut till neck in steps.
Even in old age, fluffy woolly natural style
provides grace and elegance on my face.
(Sister Golden Hair by America - Added Lyrics)
Well, it's so long since I saw you,
Sister Golden Hair surprise.
Though I keep on thinkin' 'bout you,
you can't see it in my eyes.
Now I want better correspondence,
I am not so hard to find.
And I promise you
I'll make it worth your while.
Will I meet you there in your place?
Will you meet me here in mine?
Your sweet image lives in my mind
and you always look so fine.
Well I just won't fake it.
I'm right here sayin'
I wanna make it.
(Do wop do wop...)
when I
young I
was well
and tell
my friends
split ends
my hair
not fair
but clean
not mean
I wash
and brush
my locks
like ducks
to say
like fay
I sing
and swing
and fly
not cry
to dry
not fry
under
hot air
my own
full grown
long hair
black hair
love you
just you
sweet you
black you!
It's not that i desire to have long hair
It's just my natural hair is a nightmare
Braids are easy you just unwrap and go
Wearing different styles or let them hang low
Some explore with different colors but i love black
Corn rows, twists, individuals we can all do that
It brings out our creativity and sets us apart
It's not just a style we wear it's a work of art
I admit it takes a while and you have to be willing to sit
How much hair to use takes serious measurement
Whether we do them ourselves or someone else gets paid
It doesn't make a difference we love wearing braids.
My hair is a whimsical canvas my crown
It’s so versatile pinned up or flowing down
An expression of my natural creativity
Hair is a blessing of my femininity
Sometimes I let the pillow style it
Go with the flow wearing my wild wit
In this way my hair is a cocoa cloud
All soft and fluffy unruly truly proud
Sometimes the rain puffs it up
I don’t complain I just embrace love
If I wear a natural Afro style
Or twists with bliss will make me smile
I can never go wrong with braids
Long or short the patterns make waves
Take it down and enjoy it anew
Crinkled and wrinkled my hair is the truth
Even if I have had bad hair days
Can cut it short or even shave
Hair is an expression when I’m feeling chatty
Fine like vine thick like brick stringy or nappy
My eyes wandered through an old photograph.
Pausing suddenly, I dissolved in tears,
remembering how, the first half of half
of my life, you were with me all those years,
and how my young love, bonny, bright, and fair,
stroked you with fingers, delicate and soft,
as well she styled you, "beautiful blonde hair",
and admired you, as wind bore you aloft.
So, bitterly, I asked, why did you leave?
Slowly, bit by bit, I was abandoned,
to sadly mourn and hopelessly to grieve.
Yet, I struggle hard to understand and,
thinking philosophically, I say,
drying my tears away, "'twas only DNA".
passion for fashion
kinky hair halo for head
smiles styles black green red
there once was a fella named Joe
whose hairstyle's a wonky Afro
to the barber Joe went
Who repaired his head dent
Joe returned bald headed like Moe!
If perfect was a picture,
That picture would be of you.
Every aspect of your being
Is simply too good to be true.
Your hair is an enchanting sight,
A stunning shade of red.
There for all the world to see,
Worn like a crown upon your head.
Your eyes are elegant as emeralds,
They are exclusive and pristine.
Mystifying the whole world
With their intense yet delicate green.
At your skin I can only marvel,
It's a soft and creamy white.
Graced with a sprinkling of freckles,
Such a truly magnificent sight.
From your head to your toes,
There is not a single flaw.
Your beauty it is so unique,
Something the world has never saw.
Every time I take a look,
I find something that is new.
In this picture of perfection,
This picture that is you.
A man, half a mountain of hair,
Gave Cupid a bit of a scare.
He wasn't a knave,
He just didn't shave,
A heart that was rare did he share.
I don’t think she’s really aware
That the touch of her soft flowing hair
Takes me drifting through time
To that evening at nine
When she stole my heart without care
I had just held the door
Nothing less – nothing more
A flash of eyes blue
A whispered “thank you”
Made me wish to perform an encore
The hook had been set
Though she wasn’t fishing
I sat alone at the bar
Silently wishing
She’d said just a little bit more
Thus, fate intervened
As we left in the rain
Draped beneath our old coats
Leaping o’er curbside moats
Setting sail on an endless affair
All our secrets abide
Even those that we “hide”
In those quizzical grins
That mask all or our sins
‘neath the touch of her soft flowing hair