Let me apologize to any readers who went to my blog and I hadn't added anything yesterday. My birthday is coming up this month and I needed to get things setup for Medicare and all of the supplements needed to survive the health care nightmare without losing all that I've worked for.
I spent the evening rewriting a short story, trying to lengthen it for submission.
My blood sugar dropped and I became weak which added to the confusion of the evening. It took some time to remedy that. I thought of the post several times, but never had the energy to do the deed and make the post. I am sorry for any disappointment to any of my readers.
The following poem I wrote was a prompt to if I would choose, what other date would you take as a birthday.

   

 

   What date would I choose if I had to choose another date for my birthday?

    It certainly wouldn’t be any date that would be near a holiday.

    It wouldn’t be January or February, those months are too cold.

    What month would I select that would feel correct to grow another year old?

    July and August would not, because they’re too hot, picnics and swimming is fine.

    April’s too rainy, May, kind of ungainly, those birthday months are not mine.

    October’s too scary. November’s, winter barely. They’re not for me.

    June is for weddings. December’s for sleddings and Christmas making merry.

    September’s in the running, but March is stunning. One I already own.

   That month has caused strife, losing my mother and wife, where have those years flown.

   March is good enough, though the weather’s still rough and can change in a second.

   What can I say, March is my birthday and of that month I have grown quite fond.