Blowing candles
Twenty and nine
The supposed last joyous year of youth
I still feel 12

Many sorrows
Many great blessings
Ribbon together in bright May pole colors
This beautiful weaving of my life
I wear it close, this art work
For even the tiniest of words
Have effected it's pattern

*Our age should mean no more than acquired wisdom
Like fine wine we sip on memories
I am no different
A toast to you Birthday Girl
Make a wish for me