Happy Birthday My Baby Girl
Today you are seventeen years old;
We have brought to you our lineage gold.
We have brought our swiss vevelt lace
And sweet powder for your cherubic face.
Happy we are you are not a "broodlord":
The broodlords, the unhatched -
They say eagles waft in the air,
They see marauding cobras in the jungle,
They shrug at the pain of laying,
Grimace at the fast of brooding;
Tick, tick,tick; broodlords rot the eggs.
March 17 you broke the wall;
The honey was not spilled, the jar was not broken.
Seventeen years now you are pruning your wings.
Sweet to see you bristling your breast.
Happy birthday my baby girl;
Next year I shall greet you again.
For my daughter, Amogemola, on her seventeenth year birthday.
Copyright © Kayod5 Kayode | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment