The Carpenter
Into the room walked the carpenter.
The windblown look of his hair running
pell mell, helter skelter, and curly all over
was a whole lot kinky.
There was an almost sideways smile,
a wistful grin, on his face as he considered
how he must surely look in the eyes of his friends.
He was a slender figure silhouetted against
the rays of the morning sun. The tint of
his hair glistening in the light was
shining as bright as his big red
mustache.
This is One of Six in a
series called Caressing
the Detail.
By ArtisticPoet48
© 2008 ArtisticPoet48
(All rights reserved)
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