For M.F., commissioned by S.F.
In olden times, the laureate was forced
To celebrate occasions—that new birth,
A coronation, perhaps the grim course
Of recent history. To prove my worth,
(Though no laureate), I’ll accept the task
Because this event’s a true occasion—
The birthday of a neighbor, who, unmasked,
Amazing—requires no persuasion.
Her gleaming virtues are unique—she gives,
And gives, and gives without a need to take—
Love for her large family—the motives
That drive her midwife life for infants’ sake.
She’s forty-eight today—and we are blessed—
Her beauty argues for two decades less!
(10/27/12)