A Toast to BarbaraA TOAST to Barbara, one reason whyThis birthday milestone makes most gals cry But Barbara's made of better stuff Stern to bow: the woman's tough Just look at David, that'll begin to explain Why she'll hardly whine or complain About thirty-six years they've been strapped to love's mast That's one more year than half of her past A past and a future we celebrate with glee All at once weeks of fog mean nothing to me Look at her work for all of us lately The boatyard, Cranberry General: Isn't she saintly To put up with complaints like 'the store's out of milk' Or 'my paper is missing.' She's earned ribbons of silk For the problems we bring her she solves with great ease With a smile contagious and a smirk, if you please Have I said she is witty? A bright star in our sky? Pizza for kids, native blueberry pie. Historical work, our library and school All flourishing now for she suffers no fool As this one insisting on rhyming to say We cherish your friendship from each day to day So take a big gulp from your flagon, my mates And hope, nay you pray, that the end of our dates Is so far in the future that all Manset we own Along with Northeast to park cars that have grown To take over the mainland with asphalt and lines As condos have cut down our spruce and white pines For our Island's become a casino for yuppies Who barge SUV's, crisp white wine and their puppies This future, I know, is not what we dream So back to my toast to our peaches 'n cream Of a woman who knows that we speak with le coeur Happy birthday, dear Barbara, tu es une belle fleur.
Douglas Alan Frank & family |