It is that time of year again
the beautiful day finally came.
My birthday – it is long overdue
Patience is hardly my virtue.
Mom and Dad planned for days
To think of how to celebrate
But I was thinking of the boxes
Not the guests or their kisses
How many books, games and wonders
Are hidden in their mighty numbers?
Perhaps a brush, lipstick and blush
A pair of shoes or a perfume lush
A pretty bag or journal to write
The wondrous events of my life
Perhaps Aunt Katherine would be so generous
to part with her ruby instead of kisses decorous
Cousin Jen had promised the figurine
Although it had been a gift from the Queen.
Uncle Tate is such a grouse
Generosity from him, I would not espouse.
Godmother Charlotte is sweet and kind
But she is too poor to buy anything nice.
I wonder if my best friend Moll
Saved up to buy me a china doll.
But more than anything else I ever want
Is for them to read my mind at once.