No wonder she doesn't recall <br />if the day was in Spring or in Fall. <br />In her head there are words <br />and a million wild birds <br />nothing else can be found there at all. <br /> <br />And I say those were truly the days <br />when the house that's been bought by the gays <br />was a home that was near <br />a most friendly and dear <br />threesome known as our neighbours anglaise. <br /> <br />Happy Birthday to Barbara, yes! <br />May Ye Gods not demand you confess <br />that you're seventy-nine <br />though like good vintage wine <br />you have wrinkles, well, nevertheless. <br /> <br />It is true that we miss you at times <br />as we also miss lemons and limes. <br />It would please us the most <br />if we could be your host <br />for your visit. I'll write you more rhymes. <br /> <br />You tell Phil that his bench is still here. <br />Not to fret or to worry or fear <br />he can place his thin ass <br />on the end and the mass <br />will propel him to land on his ear. <br /> <br />From the land of the jolly old Yanks <br />where she reigns in the top of the ranks. <br />We shall strongly insist <br />to have HER on the list <br />when you land on old Bribie's sandbanks. <br /> <br />So the deal is we must make a date. <br />Even though there may BE a long wait. <br />As with family friends <br />you can never dispense <br />with the bonds that the Aussies call Mate. <br /> <br />So to end the prescription for you, <br />you must follow and finally do <br />what I tell you just once <br />(and you know us mean Huns) <br />eat the cake and the whipping cream too!<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/happy-birthday-barbara/
