Night before I was to turn a year older than today,
I would ask God for many things come what may.
Nine outa ten I would be sad rocking to an fro,
Toys flying to the moon, messages on string would grow.
Hearing rock and roll,my birthday hat on back to front,
Viynal 45s U.F.O's after mom said dont.
Hey its my birthday feeling sad,
Didnt have much money, lots of love I was secretly glad.
Only I known that that express was for a christmas tree,
The wrapping paper would not have been torn see.
Now I am feeling low,
Six months before engine 405B light would glow.
Where is dad anyway?
He will be here I hear mom say.
Then ding from a bell he was there with a tenspeed montain tyres blue all aglow,
Thank you God as my smile starts to grow.
Blowing candles out, cake cought up my nose,
Hey its my birthday why is dad given mum a rose?
Yeah happy bithday to me,
Even if I got nothing, Jesus gave his love says He.
A contest entry
- MY BIRTHDAY DAY by debilynn.
900 points, ended February 7, 2007, 10 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Beautiful write. I also liked the way you weren't concerned with the material things in the way of presents. Sometimes just being with family and friends can be the best thing for a birthday. Keep up the good writes.
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so sweet!
this poem is sweet, because it shows that you are interested not in material things but rather in spiritual ones. as you know, dear, God blesses hearts such as that! this is a wonderful poem.
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Spirits that form
Hi my sweet lovely one, you have this unbelievable knack to hold me near, even though I am not in the physical there.
I will always love you come which way,
It is through this spiritual journey that my God and I pray.
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Way back when kids appreciated what they got for Birthdays/Christmas. I remember those days. Vinyl 45's, we still have a cupboard full of them. Very nostalgic and a great write. Goodluck in the contest
Renee
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thank you for entering my contest. this is a very lovely poem.
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