Category: Birthdays

Pricelessness at 90

It's 32,805
The number of days you have now been alive
4,680 in weeks
You're listed among the world's priceless antiques
No way could the auctioneer’s gavel come down
For even the wealthiest bidder in town
I'd place a reserve of infinity plus
And wrap you and take you back home on the bus
You didn't arrive where you got to today
By giving your favourite belongings away
It’s kinder to share your opinions around
Instructions and lessons for free not one pound
Be careful don't burn yourself do not get lost
And why are you foolish and what did that cost
Collected and catalogued in your wee head
Is everything everyone's done or has said
Sound judgements pronounced no appeals 
This one's true
Most 90 year olds are just nothing like you

A mother's words are hard to price
Admonishments and wise advice
I learned at last that listening pays
It took me 20,000 days

Surprise

Now you’re 90 did you know that
If it’s breaking news that’s hard
Let’s you and I find reasons why
You’re glad to get that card

There’s no need to do your homework
No more eat your greens and grow
No spots to squeeze no boss to please
No facts you have to know

So it’s cheerio coercion
Do exactly what you like
Scoff Yorkie bars smoke fat cigars
Fit rockets on your trike

Yes the world is hot and bothered
There’s a sort of global fight
But you’re excused not even bruised
And never cold at night

Young fools can sort the planet out
Convince yourself of that
Though the chance they can is smaller than
The toenail of a gnat

So have dancing girls on Tuesdays
Best burlesque with jazz and gin
Oh why abstain try crack cocaine
And plug those speakers in

Hey Led Zeppelin Iron Maiden
Favourite hymns to guard your soul
Hit drums all night if that feels right
You’re 90 rock’n’roll

Celebrate

I’m 88 you know
You’re not!
You’ve got such lovely skin
I feed my face with goodies
From my Tunnock’s Teacakes tin.
I ran the Mothers’ Union
What, good works and scones and God?
That’s right and He and I agree
That everyone is odd
They make my days go all to pot
These people always late
I greet them with my boxing glove
And say I’m 88
Excuses are a lot of rot
You have to be prepared
Those 4 year olds I taught at school
Behaved because I cared
In Limavady Ballygrot
Ralloo and Drumahoe
A thousand former pupils say
She’s 88 you know
And never even once forgot
A face their place their name
Now hers is great great auntie
And her memory’s still the same
All details since the year of dot
All juicy breaking news
All stories wise and wonderful
With worldly overviews
I listened cuddled in my cot
We listen to each other
I’ve learned so much but mainly this
She’s 88, my mother

Happy Birthday to my Wonderful Husband

O who would find me lost in town
Arrest the toast and keep it brown
Adjust the mighty woofer sound
If you
Weren’t
Here?
Who would play with tools for toys
Do burps and yawns for background noise
The reassuring sounds of boys
If you
Weren’t
Here?
Who else could cook and correspond
Have hedge surrender grass be gone
And who would call me Gillian Dawn
If you
Weren’t
Here?
O who could do the harder sums
Explain the rules of mauls and scrums
And who would get me off my bum
If you
Weren’t
Here?