Wrapped up Boxes

It is that time of year again

the beautiful day finally came.

My birthday – it is long overdue

Patience is hardly my virtue.

Mom and Dad planned for days

To think of how to celebrate

But I was thinking of the boxes

Not the guests or their kisses

How many books, games and wonders

Are hidden in their mighty numbers?

Perhaps a brush, lipstick and blush

A pair of shoes or a perfume lush

A pretty bag or journal to write

The wondrous events of my life

Perhaps Aunt Katherine would be so generous

to part with her ruby instead of kisses decorous

Cousin Jen had promised the figurine

Although it had been a gift from the Queen.

Uncle Tate is such a grouse

Generosity from him, I would not espouse.

Godmother Charlotte is sweet and kind

But she is too poor to buy anything nice.

I wonder if my best friend Moll

Saved up to buy me a china doll.

But more than anything else I ever want

Is for them to read my mind at once.