Ilene Bauer Poet Rhyme

First Birthday Cake

He eyes the candle, reaches out
To touch the flame it’s bringing,
But someone quickly blows it out;
Then everyone starts singing.

The brightly frosted cake is pushed
To where his little fingers
Cannot avoid some contact
And those gooey frosting bringers

Then find their way to cheeks and chin
And finally, to lips,
Resulting in repeated dipping
Of the fingertips.

The birthday face is nicely smeared
With neon green and blue.
His cute plaid shirt is also streaked
With cake and icing goo.

The grown-ups laugh; the cameras flash.
The moment justifies
The mess created by this birthday’s
Yummiest surprise.

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Maurice Rigoler February 15, 2019 at 2:44 PM I'm so old now I really can't remember my first birthday, though it was probably my mother's Yellow cake made from scratch. A delightful write, Ilene. / M

Rico Leffanta February 10, 2019 at 7:59 PM Well done - especially the first verse! My late wife put the children in the bathtub (sans water) to enjoy their first birthday cake. Aloha! Rico