Talk About A Belated Birthday

A big event I missed in March that I am trying to pathetically make up for now is my dear friend Trbo's bday.  Just under a month ago, Trbo turned...well...a year or so younger than I just did but suffice it to say it was a big one.  I'm not really sure what kind of poem this is, but much like the lady it describes, it marches to the beat of its own drum.

Trbo, this one goes out to you.  Happy very belated birthday.

Simply waking up to sleek, slatted hardwood
Or serene chessies sleeping right where they last serenely stood.
These are not simple luxuries Sarah's recently understood.

She travels the world saving sovereign states and their systems of defense
Or maybe she works as a spy and the other job is purely pretense.
But that wouldn't explain her need for order which some would say is intense.

Maybe her cerebellum struggles to structure what otherwise is sloppy
Since she prefers your PJ pants long and stories that aren't too choppy.
And if you've never read Emily Post's Manners, I'm sure she'll let you borrow a copy.

So instead of cards or chocolates or a cheesy bouquet
I give her the image of the most sought-after girl in the saloon, tipping her beret.
Saying "I hope you're able to swallow a spirit or two on your rescheduled birthday!"