Birthday Lament

I'm mailed sweet birthday cards full of warmest regards … but with vision so blurred I just can't read a word, I long to be twenty again … then wife bakes me that cake so a wish I may make though I don't have the breath to assure candles' death, now forty sounds all right to me … she next coos on my lap and proposes we nap, but yearning's receded, in bed I'm impeded, I'll settle for sixty, okay?