Well today is the day, as they say
not in March or September or May
that you party it up
at your poet fan club
I was going to write you a play.
But the gremlin that lives in my mind
who is tugging my ear from behind
he made sure I would lose
all the help from my muse
thus it follows I am in a bind.
So a limerick will have to do
it is nothing earthshaking or new
all the best to this girl
so, I'll give it a whirl
I'm sending my love to you.
************************************
Did the chicken precede the egg,
your careful attention I beg
since no hen was around
to dropp eggs on the ground..?
(and I wouldn't be pulling your leg) .
Where the egg comes from is a big riddle,
so I asked the wise man with the fiddle,
and he said that each rabbit
makes egg-laying a habit
They come out of the hole in the middle.
Now you know that those chickens don't lay.
On the farm they go search in the hay
for the eggs left by hares,
in the end though, who cares
I will have my egg poached if I may.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/happy-birthday-mahnaz/
