Apple of My Eye Darling Daughter Numero Deux Gifted Me
Apple of my eye darling daughter numero deux gifted me...
Twenty four years ago –
February 4th, 2023,
whose existence begat
by this dada and da mama aye
revel in your bursting at figurative
seams viz maturation, and know by
chatting over the telephone, your aura, charisma,
and persona finds me blinking back tear ducts
ready to lose water works i.e. cry
at how fate gifted this papa, whose existence
would be devoid without you, and
purposefulness undermined
if the loss of such a daughter as thee
(one young lady
more valuable than words can spell),
a reason to live would be shipwrecked
with psyche marooned to die
such emotional devastation,
could never be quashed
even as gums mouthed or uttered fee fie
Foe fum – Jack
(of Beanstalk storybook fame),
would also lack will to live,
(yes as would the giant), thence,
this grunting, groveling, and grieving guy
forced to traverse
terrestrial firmament like rob zombie – hi
King over a vast boulevard
of broken dreams, cuz I
(re: this humdrum Harris heir),
his soul asylum inconsolably reign
if irrevocably punctured akin
to mortally wounded crane
willpower to defeat death,
could not be staved,
stanched, nor stopped,
but tis fool hardy (mill Laurel Lei)
to allow, enable, or invite
darksome, irksome,
or unwholesome thoughts,
whence best for this brain
to rejoice in your awesome,
lithesome and winsome transformation
into a beauty, a non-biased commentary
I cannot resist to exclaim
an angelic, beloved and charming progeny
endearingly frolicking thru
the meandering time stream,
perhaps stopping at Donny brooks edge
where bucolic flora and fauna doth frame
thee, (maybe such infinitesimal instant
per one directional hull story of your life
via doth camera cap cha) if game
to pose as a gamine hipster inspiring
a jazzy kindling mosaic – type meme
before resuming skinny dipping back
into the waters of life,
whereby experiential arcade
beheld like a courtly table
adorned with many a fancy feast to BuzzFeed,
the sights and smells before yar senses
might appear as a charade
boot upon scrutiny, ye exhibit hesitancy
to inch closer comfort food
gluten free and NON GMO
beckons so ye haint a frayed
to take measured
steps further into verdant ever glade
puzzled at such cornucopia
cobbled together and laid
without the presence
of any handy dandy blues clues maid
in America, this novel
panoply pastiche of prideful quality eats,
and thoughts circulate sans who paid
for such resplendent sustenance,
whence this Edenic garden ye strayed
until…without, a life size topiary
supremely chainsaw creation
viz green foliage (a hedgerow
carved in the likeness of thee punim)
all of a sudden a burst of doting,
and fawning family and friends
Salutes a touching, unanimously
voted wondrous young lady
no amount of riches would anybody trade
HAPPY BIRTHDAY…a shout rings out
with glory and scale
of your worthiness
no mass out weighed!
Copyright © Matthew Harris | Year Posted 2023
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