ME LEARD

There was once upon a time
A man called Mr Leard,
Reaching down his black belt
Was a long and silky beard.

 

The beard usually measured
Two and half feet worth of hair
Others thought him quite majestic
All who saw him used to stare.

 

“How daring for old Leard
To sport those long, bushy locks!”
Everybody exclaimed these words
They though him fiercer than the rocks.

 

One day, there was a meet-up
Organised by the hairy soul
People came, a little trembly,
They were afraid he might growl.

 

Mr Leard looked through his eyes
Upon the frightened audience of his city
And suddenly broke into a large smile
That was sort of laughing and witty.

 

Everyone stared at him.
They were ever so surprised!
That grand person could really grin?
To listen to him they obliged.

 

“People of my city, I had better begin.
I have called you upon my humble request
I maybe looking fierce by I truly
love you all, oh souls dearest.

 

So I just beg all you unbearded folk
To see beyond the pounds of hair
For underneath I am a nice person
For you all I really truly care!”

 

All the onlookers who were present
Agreed and then for evermore
Loved Mr Leard’s honesty and niceness
They liked him deeply to the core.

 

‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’
Is the moral of this silly little rhyme
Or perhaps, a little bit more fitting,
Don’t judge a man by his beard in your lifetime.