Since they told her it was the latest fashion,

she wore the most vibrant gardens in her hair,

and even when the fat honeybees surrounded,

she tossed her hands saying, "Huh! Like I care."

She always hoped that the bees would play violins,

especially when the raven’s white piano was on show,

Yes, she knew that all flowers liked such concerts,

as it was whispered that it often helped them grow.

Their gala stretched out far towards the horizon,

and then quickly split off into straight lines of nine,

they waltzed where beginnings became endings,

and where hairstyles grew out amongst Wilde vines

She leaned upon the air and said, "Oh, but for a yo-yo,

to walk the dog around the world and pass the time away,

until the afternoon shadows fall down upon us like heavens,

and we feel the full moon pull close the end of day."

It’s easy to find this season’s blooms to hold in open hands,

with stems that bend and bodies mold to fit into strange plans,

hair grows straight and curly though both with silken strands,

all this utter nonsense to fulfill some designer’s high demands.

Piles of singing drums and melting cellos are finally carried in,

to join the maddening dances of the rich, the frail and thin,

with clothes to reaffirm their mantra that eating is a sin,

a parade of followers take their place as fashion’s show begins.