hopin' dat a sweet birth daisy wheel come!

As difficult as birth is to a mum,
it was as good to all that she had come,
this little one who came out of the tum.
Amanda Gail, was here, and we were dumb,

I say, compared to what she said and brought.
The noise level increased, when air was caught
inside, and burping was a job full fraught
with dangers we’d forgotten of this sport.

When all were gathered round, she’d grimace well,
then give us all a lovely smile to tell
that though it might seem she had come to “hell”
she still liked all of us, especially Shell!

Her big sister, who’d share her tea parties
with little Mandy, and help her “..say ‘Please’”.
Well all of us, would share our each disease
- that’s fam-ill-y, I s’pose; in all of these

the up’s and down’s of life, have come & gone,
and come again, and sometimes we’re forlorn.
And sometimes hard things happen… we got born!
and some gale’s blow upon a shore at morn.

She is our Gail dat brings a smile, when worn.
(She still knows how to give the glare, get shawn,
and I bet that she gives good care, when gorn
out on her nursing sprees, ‘tween dusk & dawn)

So Mandy Murrell - like an M & M
(that’s been inside your pocket since back then).
Might seem a tough exterior, a hen
with “bark”, but choc' interior’s given.

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