Personal Poetry
Personal       Poetry

Milestone Birthdays

"Happy 21st Emily May"

I'm prouder than proud, especially today.

It's my granddaughter's birthday - Emily May.

The sixteenth of January '72,

She was born to this world with eyes vivid and blue.


Since then we have formed a relationship rare,

Where Grandma's permitted her boyfriends to share!

I'm kept up to date with a regular letter,

Each new instalment gets better and better.


She's a brilliant linguist with natural flair,

In French conversation she has "savoir faire".

Her German vocabulary's now quite immense,
She's mastered subjunctives and pluperfect tense.

She thought to learn Russian would be just idyllic,

Just see how she copes with those letters Cyrillic!
Now when she leaves Cambridge and tours East to West,
Her foreign companions will be well impressed.

 She's now twenty-one so here is my toast,

 "Na Zdrovia, Sante, Good Health and Prost!"


"Feck! Yer Fifty"!

This Irish born birthday girl lived in Paris, where she hosted a party for all her friends. Best read in a lilting Dublin accent.


In Dublin’s fair city five decades ago,

Was born Mary Ryan, we’re all pleased to know.

Though born in the north, she grew up in the south.

Sure we know by the noise that comes out of her mouth!


And in Dublin’s fair city, quite fond of a jar,

She met one Pat Grogan in Finniggan’s bar.

She wooed her new fellow, with Guinness, quite mellow.

Their love, like the Liffy, through Dublin did flow.


No ifs, buts or maybes, they soon made two babies.

A bundle called Sean, and another Colleen.

Though they’ve both flown the nest, they keep Mammy abreast

Of what’s new, hip and trendy in the cool Dublin scene.


She’s a real culture vulture, with an eye for a sculpture.

A good watercolour brings her out in a sweat.

Not all arty-farty, she frequents celeb. parties,

And her favourite gallery Is Lafayette!

She’s got friends for all seasons, and all sorts of reasons.

For walking and partying and for hip-hops.

It’s really quite handy that she has got Sandy,

For bringing (not taking) things back to the shops!

She’s quite a jet-setter, and likes nothing better

Than scouring the world for a film star or two.

When Mike Douglas was bursting, our Mary was thirsting,

Sure she stole the man’s drink when he went to the loo.

She’ll take a nice Cava, though she’d probably rather

A  bottle of  champers. (Her taste is quite fine)

She scours the world’s stores, sometimes on all fours,

In pursuit of Trish McEvoy’s sparkling wine!


No tales, fibs or fables, this girl loves her labels,

Smart-casual garments are what she will choose.

Still trendy at fifty, but not always thrifty,

Each month with a vowel in it, she buys some new shoes.

Susannah and Trinny may think her arms skinny,

But all Mary wants is to botox her brow.

Then she’d  pull a young fellow at Lillie's Bordello,

With her years of experience, she’d show them how!


A real party beast, she enjoys a good feast.

She’ll oblige and help empty the rack.

So join me in a toast to our wonderful host,

Make her fiftieth a bloody good craic!

"Happy 40th Fair Maiden"

This was written for a husband to read to his wife at a mediaeval banquet which he arranged for her 40th birthday.


Hear this all merry gentlemen

And all ye maidens fair!

A tribute to the birthday wench,

She with the golden hair.

Lets regale you all with tales this night

Of "Ally Bongo's" early years,

The flirtatious teenage temptress

And her high-flying careers.

She high-jumped into record books,

At Bridgnorth (well) Endowed.

And when she did, believe you me,

She attracted quite a crowd!


She's fastidiously tidy,

Some might say it's OCD!

Her colour coded wardrobe

Is quite a sight to see.


There was nothing like the caravan

To get her in the mood.

Despite those builders (with their bums!),

Came the third boy of our brood.

But beware - the baby monitor,

When your parents baby-sit. 

You never know just what they'll hear,

When you get down to it!

She's quietly high maintainance.

The speedboat money's spent!!

But I'm glad the captain of our ship,

Took on the surname Bent!

"Fabulous at Fifty"

The  50th birthday girl was a big Cliff Richard fan. 

To Frank and Betty Corey,

In April '61, 

A bouncing baby girl was born,

Patricia was the one.


Followed four years later,

By little sister Nicky.

Two girls under 5 years old?

Bet that was bloomin' tricky!


Pat's virtues? Truth and honesty,

Must surely top the bill.

Should I shatter those illusions?

Oh, go on then... I will!

As a child she found her birthday gift;

MONOPOLY - brand new!

She played it and repackaged it,

Before the day - it's true!


And then in 1990,

Met her favourite "Bachelor Boy".

Their story began at a party,

And involved an inflatable toy!


And then in May of '99,

Fulfilment of their dreams.

Emma was their "Living Doll",

Despite her all-night screams! 


She has bags of every colour,

And bags of every size, 

The cost now shows on Adrian;

See those bags beneath his eyes! 


How apt it is that "sparkle" 

Is the theme she chose tonight.

It's not just all the bling she wears,

Makes us need Reactolites!

It's that heart of hers which glistens,

Made of 50 carat gold,

Yet shows no signs of fading,

Even though she's really old!!


So now, to Pat, our birthday girl,

Cliff's sorry he's not here,

But from him, your family and friends,

"Congratulations" and three cheers!!

"Your D-Day B'day"

This poem was written for a retired war-time and airline pilot's 70th birthday.


A date much forgotten in history books, 

Is the sixth day of June, '22.

'Twas the day when a great British pilot was born.

Yes, the first D-Day landing - by you. 

And throughout your childhood

Your sights were set high.

Your head was found oft in a cloud.

But only in daydreams of what you might be,

The man of whom many are proud. 

In the RAF you took off with a real flying start,

In an old fun-to-fly Tiger Moth.

But when you progressed to B.A's Trident One,

Your piloting skills were shown off. 


You've travelled the world,

North, South, East and West,

And done many interesting things.

But back home in Cambridge you're still not at rest,

Although you've now hung up your wings. 

We all can discern your D.I.Y skills,

And if one should casually blink, 

It wouldn't surprise us if we were to find,

A new kitchen surrounding the sink! 


From hospital driving,

To mending a fuse, 

Nothing for you's too much trouble.

When someone's in need, whatever the deed, 

Terry Kennedy's there on the double. 


But now it's your birthday, a day to relax, 

And enjoy the good things that it sends.

Our glasses are raised as we send our love,

From family and all of your friends.




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© Susie Verity 2017