41 Years Of Fun Poem by Brooke Rose

To our dearest mother,

In your teens,
You were supreme,
You had a knack for life,
But now your years,
Abolish your fears,
And cut them like a knife

This lady named Sue,
Met a man no-one knew
They met and hit off right away.
Got married, and soon
They were on Honeymoon,
This couple showed the meaning of gay.

And now the good part,
For your life may now start
The consequence of the love that you share,
A baby in waiting
Is yours for the taking
Now think not that life is unfair

Another, too soon
All mothers do swoon
For a new born is cuter than older
Tia and Brooke
Mum, and a chook
Now move to place where it’s colder

With no-one in harm
This family on a farm
Are celebrating because you have won,
A family of gold
(or so we’ve been told)
Who cares, forty one years of fun! ! !