Birthday Poems

This is an extract of a poem written to celebrate Richard's daughter's 21st Birthday

There's one of my particular friends
Who tries to lead me to bad ends
The one who leads me most to drink
Emily Andrews! Her – I think!

On one Alcudian holiday
She nearly led us all astray:
One night returning from a bar
She took her clothing off too far.

With only make up on her face
A car of Spanish lads gave chase;
A posh hotel appeared – a gift …
We hid in terror in the lift.

A few months back some time in May
We celebrated Tom's birthday:
Dominic, Simon and Tom too
Went clubbing and they'd had a few.

They went to go,but oh dismay
Two bulky bouncers blocked the way!

A burly voice boomed out, "Don't move
That upper garment - please remove."

They'd seen a bulge – it made them pause –
Could extra manhood be the cause?
"That bulge?" "Oh I'm just over-dressed!"
The bouncers were not much impressed.

This is an extract of a poem written to celebrate the 100th Birthday of Maisie (with thanks to her daughter, Marian, for allowing us to use the poem on the website)

Coopers
Born under Libra's sign you are
Dependable and fair …
You knew your worth, and so would not
Go working anywhere …

You paused to see what Fortune sent-
What was to be your Fate?
It was not long before you rubbed
Your shoulders with the great …

Great Duchesses and Dukes and Lords –
All aristocracy –
They met at Coopers, Marble Arch
To buy confectionery.

There eminent young gentlemen,
With nannies by their side,
Bought tuck to fill their boxes up
Which they took home with pride …

But no more pride than what was felt
By you … we often hear
"I worked at Coopers many years;
I was the chief cashier."

It soon became a family joke
When seeing on T.V.
Some grand, distinguished member of
Our great nobility …

You'd say, "I knew him as a lad,
Some years back, that is when
I worked at Coopers at the time
When he was only ten."

Then you would entertain us all
With stories of the child
Of how he looked quite innocent,
But underneath was wild.

One story, quite above the rest,
Is Maisie's claim to fame …
'The abdication of King George'
And Maisie is to blame!

For Mrs Simpson's fine romance
At Cooper's made its start;
For Maisie sold the love-struck King
The sweets that won her heart.

He took them round to where she lived
It was in Branston Place:
Just round the corner from the shop
Lay national disgrace.

-------------------------

Final Words
But Gran, however small you are
And frail your body is,
You must believe these final words
You must remember this …

To us you'll always be revered
As "Head of Family" –
There sitting proudly at the top
Of our family tree.

Presiding over all your flock,
Who look up, and adore –
Two Grandchildren and now from them
Two Great Grandchildren more.

You've done 100years today
But we'll do all we can
To make this memorable for you
"A Happy Birthday Gran".

Another 100th Birthday poem …

It is July 1906
A baby girl is born,
To all the world an innocent
Who's not yet drunk nor sworn.

If we'd known then, what we know now,
We would have filled with awe:
This little innocent would live
A hundred years and more!

She's dominated all our lives
And one thing we have learnt –
Just try it on with Parlie and
You'll get your fingers burnt.

A little childhood tale of this
Permit me now to tell:
It sums up all that Granny is
Really rather well …

At school one Thomas I recall
(That was the schoolboy's name)
Had picked on me and made me cry
And covered me with shame.

I told my gran and with a look
Of fierce and firm intent:
With eyes that blazed, with chin set firm
She looked quite violent.

Then from the depths of Granny's soul
She uttered a deep curse,
And taking something from a drawer
Put something in her purse …

She took me to my school next day.
"This Thomas – which is he?"
She asked. "He's that one, over there"
I answered timidly.

"You are young Thomas – am I right?"
He grinned, and thought it fun,
Till Granny opened up her purse
And pulled from it – a gun.

The crowded schoolyard scattered quick
They wanted to survive …
Behind the bike sheds – anywhere-
Where they could stay alive.

But Thomas rooted to the spot
Now stood quite on his own,
And facing down the barrel, heard
"Leave my Sheree alone …

'Cause if you don't, I'll shoot you dead
You ghastly little brat!"
He never troubled me again
With one word after that.

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Birthday Poems

Example poems