Happy Birthday, Lynn Z.! Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

To my long ago former right hand
I send sounds from the Down Under Band.
Sixty-five? My-oh-my,
all those years flying by.
It ain't easy to understand....

....how your colurful hair has turned gray,
you've grown wrinkles all over, they say.
And you often forget
that you DO own a pet,
he's a cynic but that's quite okay.

Do not worry, dear Lynn, rest assured,
all the decades that you have endured
have just aged you like wine
and I hereby opine
that old age cannot ever be cured.

Happy Birthday and many returns!
As our planet so gracefully turns
just hang on for the ride
with the Lord by your side,
we shall send you some roses and ferns.