THE BALLAD OF DELILAH

 

Delilah’s long hair was her beauty and prize,

a tawny and sensual mane.

Thick, strong and wavy, it fell to her thighs

and drove her admirers insane.

 

The boys in her college would turn round and stare

at its lustrous and tumbling grace.

Wistful, they noted her “just-rogered” air

as she tossed the stray strands from her face.

 

For the rowing club fours, sweet Delilah would cox.

Their oars and their hearts were a-quiver!

And lush, down her back, there were always those locks!

A torrent to rival the river.

 

Delilah soon married a rowing club boy;

at the wedding, no veil falsely modest.

Her pre-Raphaelite tresses, in lamplight, a joy

and adornment enough for a goddess.

 

When her husband was posted to tropical shores

Delilah was posted as well,

but the climate there made the long hair such a chore!

So lank, and as sweaty as hell.

 

Breaking point came for Delilah one day

When she proudly became a new mother

She took hold of her tresses and sheared them away

declaring “It’s all too much bother”.

 

The next thing we knew, when the couple came home

she moved in with her parents, and son.

Her husband was living in London, alone

and their marriage was over and done.

 

The charms of Delilah were suddenly weak,

and this is the point of my story;

discover the feature that makes you unique

and cherish your own crowning glory.