The bell chimed clear and high pitched,
It felt as if the night's silence had me ditched.
Who the hell was it to irritate me at midnight,
Opening the door revealed noone at sight.
As I snuggled under the blanket and grumbled,
The bell this time didn't ring but mumbled.
I cursed the ringer and got up,
If I see that person I'll chop him up:
I said and opened the door,
To find a neat little package kept on the floor.
There was a note on the ribbon,
The packet felt soft as hot cross buns.
I opened it to find a cute pink teddy,
It had a blue dress, soft and frilly.
The little note said Happy Birthday,
Just so you don't eat me I'll meet you the next day.
I read the note and the handwriting made me shy,
The note was written and signed by my very own sky.
Isabella Francis's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Birthday by Isabella Francis )
- Leaves in Colors, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- Never Give Up, Lilly Emery
- sterilization process of our modern system, Anthony Cavuoti
- Kopje onder, Madrason writer
- five past three, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- Trapdoor, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- Gans Veer, Madrason writer
- Be What You Are, Lilly Emery
- The abrupt end., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Native land., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns