m9a Rose's Birthday
Sunday, January 20, 2008 7:37:17 AM
Written with a close friend in mind; her name
is not Rose, but everything written applies to her.
***
Dawn was cool on a sunny morn,
Oh welcome the day Miss Rose was born!
Here in November,
I gladly remember.
October's birth and opal's mirth
Coupled to greet the lady of worth;
Lilacs in bloom
About the room.
Syringa hued satin all in a bow,
Borrowed from gardens where the salads grow;
Brought to the fore
At the nursery door.
Physical beauty is rare indeed
To each his own, to each his need.
Blest at the start
With stalwart heart.
Morns and eves of changing sleeves,
Warming trend no autumn leaves.
Joy and grief
Strain belief.
But annum new with a windblown view,
Sweet caring memory's billet-doux.
Golden heralds say:
Proclaim the Day!
is not Rose, but everything written applies to her.
***
Dawn was cool on a sunny morn,
Oh welcome the day Miss Rose was born!
Here in November,
I gladly remember.
October's birth and opal's mirth
Coupled to greet the lady of worth;
Lilacs in bloom
About the room.
Syringa hued satin all in a bow,
Borrowed from gardens where the salads grow;
Brought to the fore
At the nursery door.
Physical beauty is rare indeed
To each his own, to each his need.
Blest at the start
With stalwart heart.
Morns and eves of changing sleeves,
Warming trend no autumn leaves.
Joy and grief
Strain belief.
But annum new with a windblown view,
Sweet caring memory's billet-doux.
Golden heralds say:
Proclaim the Day!









