| (It's short, it's corny, but it does the trick. And it's not as if anyone's actually going to have the patience to read it.) Baby Congratulations on this day, A child born, that is what they say, Pretty as a rose, Precious as a moonbeam, A flower blooms- she shall play, Summer fades as she shall dream In the autumn day Of sweet peaches and whipped cream, Sweet as spring, A cherished thing That we can sing Of all the wonders that she can bring In this child, a dearest darling, Sweetest child, loving a pure, Like something of a forgotten lure To be held in hearts forever-more, And nothing is more precious Then what was given here to see And nothing is more loved Then what can be With the birth Of this little baby. |
-- Amanda Pike |
