Lo! Others have made their feeble attempts, To wish you a joyous day, you wonderful gent. But methinks it was I who began the tradition, Of the birthday poem in various renditions. The family hast turned it to wonderful sport, And you are most worthy of such lofty report. (Rhyme and meter, to me, are of utmost import, They offer the foe little room for retort.) The novelist, while crafty, cannot compete, Despite her knowledge of things of the street. The niece gets points for remembering the date, And the brother wins accolades for jokes made of late. The others have yet to enter the battle, Perhaps they have gone to play Bach for the cattle. But for you, dear husband, we all take a pause And challenge our literary skills for your cause. Youre a knight, brave and strong, with a heart that is true, So lofty prose shant suffice to honor you. We thank your fair matron, for gifting our lives With a son with wit sharper than Ginsu knives. Dashing and bright, and admired by throngs, You eclipse the virtue of the heroes of songs. On this merry day as we celebrate your birth, Fear not the things that broaden your girth. Bison buffalo chili cheese fries may sometime return, But alas, there will be another day to learn. As we near the end of this glorious poem, Shall I tag the others, and thereby show em? Brian, Sarah, Kate, Beth, or any other, Your efforts were eclipsed by Joshuas mother. Consider yourselves burned, left behind in the dust. Send your accolades below, if you feel that you must. Happy Birthday, Christopher Karpus! I love you!
Posted on: Tue, 23 Sep 2014 20:18:33 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015