Michaela's hair was boldly black,
As black as ebony,
Just like the night in starless skies,
A sable symphony

"Her hair was black when she was born,"
Michaela's mother said,
"With wisps of raven-colored threads
Atop her tiny head."

Michaela, as a little girl,
Had pigtails black as dye,
And when the lads would tug on them,
She'd give them a black eye.

While in her teens, her inky locks
Went streaming out behind her.
"They look just like your horse's tail,"
Her daddy would remind her.

And when a woman she became,
In high heels and long dresses,
A red-haired Viking fell for her
And for her raven tresses.

Their home was blessed by family,
Three darling baby girls.
They all looked like their mama with
Their glossy coal-black curls.

Then one day, when her girls grew up,
Michaela felt dismay;
She saw some silver 'mid the black
And feared that she'd go gray.

Too soon her hair was frosted like
A deep dark choc'lit cake.
Michaela stopped at Beauty Shop.
She'd had all she could take.

Michaela's hair is black once more,
As black as ebony,
Just like the night in starless skies,
A sable symphony.