I'd keep those lines and re-rhyme lines three and four, sort of like this:

The hair that somehow beats the shears,
The hair that grows from masturbators’ ears,


But, then, I'm not you, yet.
Congratulations!

But Allen, hair doesn't grow from masturbators' ears. Dinah is my aunt but truth is my sister. Thank you for your time, all the same.

I dimly recall that someone (Robert Graves?) claimed that Milton, the 'Lady of Christ's', was a trichomaniac, so there's a bridge for John, who can praise him for his fetish while I laud his support of regicide.

Also he could write a bit.

Yes, I suppose he could, but at inordinate length.

And he went in for sequels. First 'Lost', then 'Regained'. I suppose we should be thankful he didn't come up with

'Ooops! Paradise Mislaid Again'.

John, I do perceive, I think, your deep and interesting thought in the original.

On the other matter, look around. What are all those little trimmer ads in the back of the catalogs for? Have fun!