Post ID: 195

A poem for my siblings to celebrate my own birthday.  I suck at getting cards, phone calls and gifts out on time, despite my best intentions.  (Which don’t count for a hill of beans, it seems.)

My birthday approaching,
I thought it the time
to send birthday wishes-
your birthday, not mine.

For Pam, this poem comes
three months too late.
for Peggy this comes,
with nary a wait.

For Dee and Evette,
this comes months too soon.  
And Ants usually gets something
to get buzzed when consumed.

Now when comes next Friday
and the birthday is mine,
think of me fondly
and toast my health with some wine!

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