Birthday Poems: Happy Birthday Dad - Poem by Arfa Karim

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Happy Birthday Dad - Poem by Arfa Karim

Every day the whole year through,
I feel grateful you are my father.
Some fathers dont have time for their kids,
But for you I am never a bother.

You always make the effort to listen and share;
You are always there when you are needed.
It warms me to know how much you care,
And with that knowledge my worries are defeated.

Dad, you are truly admired and adored,
And as your daughter, I hope that you know,
These sentiments fill me each day of the year,
And my love for you continues to grow.

Today I wish you much pleasure and joy;
I hope all of your wishes come true.
May each hour and minute be filled with delight,
And your birthday be perfect for you!

Comments about Happy Birthday Dad by Arfa Karim

  • Rookie Raja Nosherwan (11/29/2012 7:01:00 PM)

    BARDS of Passion and of Mirth,
    Ye have left your souls on earth!
    Have ye souls in heaven too,
    Doubled-lived in regions new? (John keats)

    You will most definitely be missed, rest in peace young soul.
    (Report) Reply

    6 person liked.
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  • Rookie Laya Hayat (2/6/2012 10:00:00 AM)

    oh dear
    oh allah plz keep her safe with u
    after we lost her we pakistani's have lost our
    may ALLAH bless ARFAH KAREEM
    all our joys are gone after our sweet
    (Report) Reply

    10 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Muhammad Kaleem Akram (1/14/2012 11:24:00 PM)

    @ARFA KARIM you are going to be missed a were, u are, and u will remain the proud of Pakistan ever.....we can't forget you ever.....may ALLAH bless you......
    @M.Kaleem Akram (NFC-Faisalabad)
    (Report) Reply

    10 person liked.
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  • Rookie Nauman Afzal Zia (1/14/2012 3:54:00 PM)

    She died today. May Allah give her the best place in Jannat. We will miss her. She has made Pakistanis proud. Proud to be from Arfa's country. (Report) Reply

    8 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Rookie Anjana Aravind (7/25/2006 4:18:00 AM)

    Arfa, your Dad is lucky to have a daughter like you. For me my father was everything. I miss him so terribly now a days. Very good poem.

    (Report) Reply

    10 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Rookie David Darbyshire (7/25/2006 4:11:00 AM)

    dad's are the best, happy birthday to your dad Arfa, have a great some baloons! ! ; -) (Report) Reply

    9 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
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Birthday Poems

  1. A Birthday

    My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me.

  2. Poem On His Birthday

    In the mustardseed sun, By full tilt river and switchback sea Where the cormorants scud, In his house on stilts high among beaks And palavers of birds This sandgrain day in the bent bay's grave He celebrates and spurns His driftwood thirty-fifth wind turned age; Herons spire and spear. Under and round him go Flounders, gulls, on their cold, dying trails, Doing what they are told, Curlews aloud in the congered waves Work at their ways to death, And the rhymer in the long tongued room, Who tolls his birthday bell, Toesl towards the ambush of his wounds; Herons, stepple stemmed, bless. In the thistledown fall, He sings towards anguish; finches fly In the claw tracks of hawks On a seizing sky; small fishes glide Through wynds and shells of drowned Ship towns to pastures of otters. He In his slant, racking house And the hewn coils of his trade perceives Herons walk in their shroud, The livelong river's robe Of minnows wreathing around their prayer; And far at sea he knows, Who slaves to his crouched, eternal end Under a serpent cloud, Dolphins dyive in their turnturtle dust, The rippled seals streak down To kill and their own tide daubing blood Slides good in the sleek mouth. In a cavernous, swung Wave's silence, wept white angelus knells. Thirty-five bells sing struck On skull and scar where his lovews lie wrecked, Steered by the falling stars. And to-morrow weeps in a blind cage Terror will rage apart Before chains break to a hammer flame And love unbolts the dark And freely he goes lost In the unknown, famous light of great And fabulous, dear God. Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is alwas true, And, in that brambled void, Plenty as blackberries in the woods The dead grow for His joy. There he might wander bare With the spirits of the horseshoe bay Or the stars' seashore dead, Marrow of eagles, the roots of whales And wishbones of wild geese, With blessed, unborn God and His Ghost, And every soul His priest, Gulled and chanter in youg Heaven's fold Be at cloud quaking peace, But dark is a long way. He, on the earth of the night, alone With all the living, prays, Who knows the rocketing wind will blow The bones out of the hills, And the scythed boulders bleed, and the last Rage shattered waters kick Masts and fishes to the still quick stars, Faithlessly unto Him Who is the light of old And air shaped Heaven where souls grow wild As horses in the foam: Oh, let me midlife mourn by the shrined And druid herons' vows The voyage to ruin I must run, Dawn ships clouted aground, Yet, though I cry with tumbledown tongue, Count my blessings aloud: Four elements and five Senses, and man a spirit in love Thangling through this spun slime To his nimbus bell cool kingdom come And the lost, moonshine domes, And the sea that hides his secret selves Deep in its black, base bones, Lulling of spheres in the seashell flesh, And this last blessing most, That the closer I move To death, one man through his sundered hulks, The louder the sun blooms And the tusked, ramshackling sea exults; And every wave of the way And gale I tackle, the whole world then, With more triumphant faith That ever was since the world was said, Spins its morning of praise, I hear the bouncing hills Grow larked and greener at berry brown Fall and the dew larks sing Taller this thuderclap spring, and how More spanned with angles ride The mansouled fiery islands! Oh, Holier then their eyes, And my shining men no more alone As I sail out to die

  3. A Prayer For A Mother's Birthday

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  4. Poem For My 43rd Birthday

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  5. A Birthday Poem

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