I'm sorry I missed your birthday.
T'was a terrible thing to do,
Especially when you shared your cake:
All pink, with creamy goo.

Don't think that I don't care at all;
I know you're kind and true.
It's not that I dislike your face
Or think you smell of poo.

Just blame my poor forgettery.
I didn't have a clue
That September 14th, Monday
Was a special day for you.

So I hope this gift and poetry
Will make you feel less blue.

for Lisa, 21st Sept 2008

09/21/2008

Author's Note:
I recently came across a scrape of paper with this sonnet on. As with the best, it was written for a particular person (a work colleague), time and place. There are times when only a silly poem and an abject apology combined will do. Happily, forgiveness was readily given.

Posted on 09/29/2010
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