Beards

It seems all the hipsters are growing,
Luxurious beards.
My hubby,
Too lazy to shave for thirty years.
Has decided perhaps,
A Santa coloured beard,
Is a premature accessory.
So now to shave,
And reveal his boyish complexion.
But to shave everyday?

So he doesn't,
Kisses have become a graze hazard.
Gone the smooth softness of his bearded face.
Replaced by eighty grit,
Sandpaper!
I try hard,
Very hard,
To remain impartial and not influence him.

Just when it seemed,
I would  sport my own facial carpet rash...
 .
Thank goodness,
He just couldn't get into the swing.
And has ceased shaving.
And for a change,
Followed the cool set.