Dear Bri,
I stood in front of the card selections
Pondering the sea of card imperfections
And saw I could go in many directions
(Hope I can write of them, without need for corrections) .
(Let's see …)
I almost got you a card making
Humorous pokes at your prime age,
But I felt it had not quite the right ring
Especially since you're not old enough at this stage.
(Maybe next year?) J/K
Then I saw a card that encouraged
The birthday boy to eat
Ice cream straight from the carton and to scratch,
Wherever, be it his front or his seat.
(The picture was of a dog…)
But, 'It's not the one either', I thought to myself,
for you probably indulge so any day quite well.
So that card too went back on the shelf.
Would I find the right card? It was too early to tell.
(There were many more bad cards
to look through …)
As I pulled one dull or corny card out after another,
My enthusiasm, trite bad-taste cards began to smother.
Card shopping soon became a bother.
Should I go home and cry to my mother?
(Sympathy I would surely get.)
But, just then I knew, for one
already adept at savoring small pleasures,
I picked a card with small measures.
In the end, I sought one that just
provided lots and lots of space,
So I could write a poem that might bring
a gust of laughter to your face.
(Phew, this poem writing is hard work; where
is the ice cream?)
Happy
Birthday!
To a fantastic
step-day!
Enjoy.
:) Nona
(June 2014) [written by Nona; corrections by Bri]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Treat yourself to some Ben Gay and prunes or Ex-Lax, be careful though, you're still too young at least for Anthrax and cold packs?