On the day of your birth <br />all the Gods were agreed <br />that to send you to earth <br />as a miniature seed <br />would be folly to some <br />and poetic to those <br />who expected a bum <br />and were stunned by a rose. <br /> <br />Solid substance abounds <br />though the numbers are few <br />if you run with the hounds <br />you are part of the crew. <br />You have chosen, my friend <br />the old potholed chaussée <br />which will mean, in the end <br />for your soul, liberté. <br /> <br />Happy Birthday I shout, <br />many happy returns <br />from a silly old Kraut <br />with an armful of ferns.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/happy-birthday-michael-sh/
