On Katie Turning 18
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There was a young woman called Katie
Not a Greek or a Thai or Kuwaiti
But a proud Scottish lassie
Who’s really quite classy
And in sixty two years will be eighty
The name Kate has more rhymes I could try
There are plenty and I don’t know why
There is crate, great and eight
There is weight, late and fate
If only I could lose the ‘i’
But Katie is what she is called
And though on this rhyme I have stalled
Now she’s quite come of age
And is bound for the stage
Of my rhymes I am sure she’s appalled
I don’t want this verse to affect her
When she graduates as a director
Or a media star
As I’m sure she’ll go far
I do hope my rhymes won’t deflect her
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Happy birthday my talented niece
I have finished. I’ve now said my piece
May your light always shine
A lot brighter than mine
May your passion and joy never cease
(or I will never be Louis Macneice)
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