A Special Birthday

A silver service! What I've always wanted!
... to cover in a cupboard, in the dark
where fluff and tarnish never need be flaunted
or subject to her eyebrow's question mark.
See, "service" isn't what the silver does
for you, think more of what you do for it:
you rub its genie, bear it proudly thus,
as postured polished plumage to transmit
your worth to birds two generations older
so she can hold her head high with her peers.
I wonder how she'd cope if I had told her
that using it would age me fifty years.
My bitten tongue reminds me I'll be haunted
by archived gifts: the things she always wanted.


Very good, as usual. I like it, but I found it a touch glib in spots. E.g. "rub its genie" felt like a stretch--clever, perhaps, but a trifle forced.

Fair comment, Judah. In retrospect the genie imagery doesn't add anything there. It actually detracts from the idea of the gift being more of a chore.