Apple of my eye darling daughter numero deux gifted me...

Twenty four years ago –
February 4^th, 2023,
whose existence begat

by this dada and da mama aye
revel in your bursting at figurative

seams viz maturation, and know by

chatting over the telephone, your aura, charisma,
and persona finds me blinking back tear ducts
ready to lose water works i.e. cry
at how fate gifted this papa, whose existence
would be devoid without you, and
purposefulness undermined

if the loss of such a daughter as thee

(one young lady

more valuable than words can spell),
a reason to live would be shipwrecked

with psyche marooned to die

such emotional devastation,
could never be quashed

even as gums mouthed or uttered fee fie

Foe fum – Jack

(of Beanstalk storybook fame),

would also lack will to live,
(yes as would the giant), thence,
this grunting, groveling, and grieving guy
forced to traverse

terrestrial firmament like rob zombie – hi

King over a vast boulevard

of broken dreams, cuz I

(re: this humdrum Harris heir),

his soul asylum inconsolably reign
if irrevocably punctured akin

to mortally wounded crane

willpower to defeat death,

could not be staved,

stanched, nor stopped,

but tis fool hardy (mill Laurel Lei)

to allow, enable, or invite
darksome, irksome,

or unwholesome thoughts,

whence best for this brain
to rejoice in your awesome,

lithesome and winsome transformation

into a beauty, a non-biased commentary

I cannot resist to exclaim
an angelic, beloved and charming progeny

endearingly frolicking thru

the meandering time stream,

perhaps stopping at Donny brooks edge
where bucolic flora and fauna doth frame
thee, (maybe such infinitesimal instant
per one directional hull story of your life

via doth camera cap cha) if game

to pose as a gamine hipster inspiring

a jazzy kindling mosaic – type meme

before resuming skinny dipping back
into the waters of life,

whereby experiential arcade
beheld like a courtly table
adorned with many a fancy feast to BuzzFeed,
the sights and smells before yar senses

might appear as a charade
boot upon scrutiny, ye exhibit hesitancy
to inch closer comfort food

gluten free and NON GMO
beckons so ye haint a frayed

 

to take measured

steps further into verdant ever glade
puzzled at such cornucopia

cobbled together and laid

without the presence

of any handy dandy blues clues maid

in America, this novel

panoply pastiche of prideful quality eats,
and thoughts circulate sans who paid
for such resplendent sustenance,
whence this Edenic garden ye strayed

 

until…without, a life size topiary

supremely chainsaw creation

viz green foliage (a hedgerow
carved in the likeness of thee punim)
all of a sudden a burst of doting,

and fawning family and friends

Salutes a touching, unanimously

voted wondrous young lady

no amount of riches would anybody trade
HAPPY BIRTHDAY…a shout rings out
with glory and scale

of your worthiness

no mass out weighed!