Lamington Flakes (a birthday poem)
Blowing out an infinite number of invisible candles,
I’ve always known you were wiser beyond your years.
Before anyone knows the number of days, hours, seconds
You have lived,
I’ll let them know how special you are first.
You’re smart, intelligent, clever,
They sound like the same thing to one person
(The same adjectives with the same meaning),
You encompass them all.
You’re bright, shiny, and sparkle,
And not like that diamond in the window of the jewellery shop
(If you know what I mean),
But like the little gemstones in the silver heart around my neck.
You can run, jump, fly, skate and twirl,
And if it weren’t for you, then I wouldn’t have a world.
Regardless, you “just want to live a quiet life”,
I tweeted it, humourously
And still, the pings and messages and phone calls rolled in.
One of us was probably smug that we got to kiss at midnight.
I still got to see your smiling face,
Even though your head was buried in a pile of notes,
And I still got to reach over and hold your hand,
Even though you were trying to type tiny print onto a sheet of paper.
You kept on going,
Even though you’re secretly jealous of my Crash Bandicoot-themed dock on OS X.
At the end of the week instead we’ll just dance
At the funny disco,
And I’ll dance
In your heart.
You’ll enjoy your new coat,
And that thing that is to come in the mail that you totally found out about
We’ll still be together, after all,
And sorry to say,
Birthdays aren’t special.
But you are.