Ode to My Mustache

  
Oh dearest mustache, oh cherished mustache,
Must I stash you away when I’m summer bound?  
I’ve grown to like you like you’re fat stacks of cash,  
Oh why can’t I just keep you all year round?  
   
During this quarantine I’ve learned to preen and primp,  
To comb you and wax you and give you a bigger spread,  
Now my lips hide under the bush while the ends crimp,  
However, my woman looks at me with a little dread.  
   
Why does my girl not appreciate your curl?  
Does my facial hair make me look a little fickle?  
I know my beard is weird and it’s not revered,  
Or is she kind of afraid that it’s going to tickle?  
   
But you, dear mustache, have a splash of panache,  
I look like a 1900s bare knuckles scrapper,  
I'm confident without all the balderdash,  
With you, dressed up, I feel a little more dapper.    
:-{ >