It’s my favorite holiday of the year,
Every 364 days it will appear.
This holiday I will turn seven,

In four more holidays, I’ll be eleven.

You guessed it; it’s my special day,
On my birthday I mostly get my way.
But, it has to be something realizable,
And it can’t be something inadvisable.

Dad makes me cocoa with whipped cream on top,
I wish birthday treats would never stop.
But, best of all is when I see,
Gift-wrapped boxes that are for me.

Aunt Robyn’s sweater will keep the chill away,
And the keyboard will be fun to play.
An action figure, a can spraying strings,
New railroad cars and a doll that sings.
With Legos, I’ll make a machine to travel,
Over bumpy roads paved with gravel.
And, in an envelope there is a ticket,
To watch a game of English cricket.

With boxes opened and cake in my tummy,
This day is the best and totally yummy.
But like all days, this one comes to an end,
And even though I’m not tired, I will pretend,
Because the perfect way to end this day,
Is to kiss my family and slip away.
Today's memories with me will stay,

At least until my next birthday.

My Favorite Holiday

Copyright Nancilee Wydra, 2014. All rights reserved.  This information can not be duplicated or reproduced.

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