My Beard

by Shel Silverstein.

My beard grows to my toes,

I never wears no clothes,

I wraps my hair

Around my bare,

And down the road I goes.

Shel Silverstein was a true American original. He was read and heard in children`s play groups, the record charts, Playboy, on the battlefield, and at the top of book listings; in fact, he was a bona fide, ubiquitous, literary super hero from another time and dimension. He was all things to all people. His words contain everything ever needed by those searching for a meaning to their life, or the insane world around, and inside their heads. Like the truly great poets, he was able to instill the essence of his subject into a few, short lines, unadorned with the superfluous verbiage found in lesser poets, who think a waterfall of words will overwhelm the reader into thinking…..”Wow, what a marvelous poet”, when all they are reading is the work of a windbag. For me, My Beard sums up the genius of Shel Silverstein; it`s short, precise, and packs an immediate punch. May the fame of his poetic beard live on, forever.

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