sonnet

You shaved your beard and part of me awoke
A part that pined over you at the start,
which had been hibernating in my heart,
was now un-caved and lively with one look.
For, though your beard and moustache were well-groomed,
and though you boast the features of a king,
I would not trade your jaw for anything
or shroud your mouth in that dark, hairy room.
I've loved you in your hair mask all these years
and told you how minute the matter seemed
(but ever were you smooth-cheeked when I dreamed).
You roused me when you lifted silver shears,
restoring with the lather and the clips
the vivid touch of your unhindered lips.

(c) Tasha Chinnock 2006