For your twenty-first birthday, with love and affection,***
Here's something -- like you -- that's been aged to perfection.
I feel that it's adulthood's great privilege
To always have good champagne chilled in the fridge.
So enclosed in this box is all that you need
For a proper celebration to succeed!
Serve it to "special" guests 'stead of wine or gin,
And you may end the night snugly wrapped in bearskin!
The MTA's Poetry in Motion series is now featuring Walt Whitman's "To a Stranger," which reminds me of the second verse of Pink Floyd's "Echoes."
I was watching David Gilmour play "Echoes" in Remember That Night today; if that performance, and accompanying light show, doesn't make you a Pink Floyd fan, then nothing will.
Green lasers are fantastic, but nothing can be more fantastic than Gilmour. <3