Poetry Sunday: Birthdays

Today, August 9, is my birthday. As I celebrate with my family the beginning of another year of my life, I find myself agreeing with the poet William Robert Service: We should celebrate birthdays every day. After all, every day is SOMEBODY'S birthday. Every day we should "cherish with delight the birthday way of lovely living."

 And so, I resolve, in Service's words:

 "So in the summers left to me,
Because I'm blest beyond my merit,
I hope with gratitude and glee
To sparkle with the birthday spirit."  

 This poem seems perfect for me. The only thing I would change is the last sentence. It should be, "Mom, Happy Birthday."

 Birthdays 

by William Robert Service

Let us have birthdays every day,
(I had the thought while I was shaving)
Because a birthday should be gay,
And full of grace and good behaving.
We can't have cakes and candles bright,
And presents are beyond our giving,
But let lt us cherish with delight
The birthday way of lovely living.

 For I have passed three-score and ten
And I can count upon my fingers
The years I hope to bide with men,
(Though by God's grace one often lingers.)
So in the summers left to me,
Because I'm blest beyond my merit,
I hope with gratitude and glee
To sparkle with the birthday spirit.

 Let me inform myself each day
Who's proudmost on the natal roster;
If Washington or Henry Clay,
Or Eugene Field or Stephen Foster.
Oh lots of famous folks I'll find
Who more than measure to my rating,
And so thanksgivingly inclined
Their birthdays I'll be celebrating.

 For Oh I know the cheery glow
Of Anniversary rejoicing;
Let me reflect its radiance so
My daily gladness I'll be voicing.
And though I'm stooped and silver-haired,
Let me with laughter make the hearth gay,
So by the gods I may be spared
Each year to hear: "Pop, Happy Birthday." 

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