Classic Birthday Poems: The Perfect Gift
Birthdays are one of the few days were our entire world revolves around us. And with good reason! We are special. We are humorous. We are beautiful. We are fantastic! Because of this, we deserve everything we can get on this special day. Of course, no matter who is doing the giving, we should be thankful and appreciate what they have done for us.
Happy birthday, just in case it is your special day. One of the traditions I have come to love over the years is reading a poem about birthdays whenever mine comes around. It helps me keep in touch with the poet inside me and puts me in a great mood for the rest of the day.
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Having said this, classic birthday poems are a great way to help celebrate a day of birth. The words are soothing and the rhythm creates the perfect read for a day of appreciation. No matter if it is for a present or just for a light read, here are a couple great poems to fulfill your need of beautiful words on this great day. So have fun and wish that special person a happy b-day from Poem of Quotes!
To My Brothers
Small, busy flames play through the fresh-laid coals, And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep Like whispers of the household gods that keep A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls. And while for rhymes I search around the poles, Your eyes are fixed, as in poetic sleep, Upon the lore so voluble and deep, That aye at fall of night our care condoles. This is your birthday, Tom, and I rejoice That thus it passes smoothly, quietly: Many such eves of gently whispering noise May we together pass, and calmly try What are this world's true joys, -ere the great Voice From its fair face shall bid our spirits fly. by John Keats
My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me. by Christina Georgina Rossetti