Poem for her 722

Dear Readers,


The cake

The cake isn't what you think
The cake is what you think
Think cake
Cake think
Then blink twice
There it's your birthday
Again
Oh right this is said a lot
The clock rolls to those digits
Then blink
Happy birthday
She said it on this date
Oh the poem number isn't it
It's the publishing date
Date was that a date
Not that date it was a plum
Dates grow on palms
Plams aren't in the oh yeah spelt wrong
Palms there you go
Hand me yours
We dance

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.