10:06
A brown-eyed girl did just turn thirty-nine,
Better with age, like a teaspoon of wine,
So a Happy Birthday to you,
For to my old eyes of blue,
You'll always be that hot young chick of mine.
12:13
'Y a un fille de la rive sud,
Je l'ai vu et j'ai dit «hé, c'est good».
Aujourd'hui pour sa fête,
'Y a des poèmes dans ma tête,
Au sujet d'la beauté qu'elle exsude
17:02
No Byron, nor Whitman, nor Wordsworth am I,
I'll never win a Pulitzer, no matter how I try,
But still I'll put to verse what I have now to say,
I wish you all the best and more on this, your special day.
17:15
If to say this I might be so bold,
Thirty-nine is not really that old,
When you're still young at heart
(And my motor you start),
So, what you've already been told.
(Happy Birthday)
18:42
Of all the presents you might get,
I've still got the best one yet,
For though the birthday may be thine,
The birthday girl is mine.
21:50
I wrote a bunch of poems today,
For this, your day of birth,
With hope that in their silly way,`
They'd bring a bit of mirth.
They might not be be Shakespearean,
Or quite as good as Wilde,
And some of them look like they can
Be written by a child.
But it's the thought that counts, my love,
And that is my defence,
For the fine style they're lacking of
(Of which there's no pretense).
Besides, this ain't the best of it,
For some of them, I fear,
Are just a bit too explicit
To post them over here.
A brown-eyed girl did just turn thirty-nine,
Better with age, like a teaspoon of wine,
So a Happy Birthday to you,
For to my old eyes of blue,
You'll always be that hot young chick of mine.
12:13
'Y a un fille de la rive sud,
Je l'ai vu et j'ai dit «hé, c'est good».
Aujourd'hui pour sa fête,
'Y a des poèmes dans ma tête,
Au sujet d'la beauté qu'elle exsude
17:02
No Byron, nor Whitman, nor Wordsworth am I,
I'll never win a Pulitzer, no matter how I try,
But still I'll put to verse what I have now to say,
I wish you all the best and more on this, your special day.
17:15
If to say this I might be so bold,
Thirty-nine is not really that old,
When you're still young at heart
(And my motor you start),
So, what you've already been told.
(Happy Birthday)
18:42
Of all the presents you might get,
I've still got the best one yet,
For though the birthday may be thine,
The birthday girl is mine.
21:50
I wrote a bunch of poems today,
For this, your day of birth,
With hope that in their silly way,`
They'd bring a bit of mirth.
They might not be be Shakespearean,
Or quite as good as Wilde,
And some of them look like they can
Be written by a child.
But it's the thought that counts, my love,
And that is my defence,
For the fine style they're lacking of
(Of which there's no pretense).
Besides, this ain't the best of it,
For some of them, I fear,
Are just a bit too explicit
To post them over here.
4 comments:
Awesome! :)
i love your brain! you are very talented.
and your wife is lucky to have a good heart that shows her she's loved.
I love your little poems :)
I <3 you
Post a Comment