Synagogue Fashion

I took my seat in the first pew high above the ground,

Trying not to bring attention, didn’t make a sound,

Nothing to look at except right down below,

At a plethora of male heads, attached to each fellow,

What a boring sight forced upon my eyes,

Of baldness or short cropped hair covered, in disguise,

With skull caps not differing one from another,

Probably chosen or bought by a wife or a mother,

The men’s choir singing, their black kipput in my face,

Like a flock of crows, melodic without much grace,

I searched hard for something to catch my sight,

But blackness was all I could see from my elevated height,

When I noticed a flashing of bright purple or was it pink,

It looked like it was sparkling, I didn’t know what to think,

Could it be what I thought it was, I dared to hope,

A bold fashion statement of one courageous bloke,

If allowed I would have taken my hat off to this brave brute,

And I prayed the rest of his gender would quickly follow suit,

Not to cause male confusion or possible macho defection,

But to adorn colourful skullcaps to brighten up the ladies section.

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