Do You Require a Birthday Limerick for the Thirties Decade?

If today is your natal celebration day, our gift to you is a birthday limerick, tailored specifically to the proper year, which you must admit is rare. Very likely, you shall not find the greeting card for thirty-four in your grocer's aisle.

“Happy Birthday” to you is said to be the most sun song in the world and here at the pub, we are excruciatingly specific, and it is our plan, by and by, to cover the gamut of natal days from one to one hundred. Every year should be the best year.

Full disclosure requires that we admit to a certain redundancy on this page, whose limerick poems for the decade of the thirties closely resemble those of the twenties. However, since you are spending only electrons, and since it avoids the firing of any brain cells to strain you in making the substitutions to a birthday limerick yourself, nor the firing of Kathleen's as well, and since we at the pub are stuffed with cake and suffering from the inevitable ennui of the sugar crash after the sugar high, herein they are unabashedly displayed.

Birthday Limerick for Thirty-three

Our birthday girl(boy) is thirty-three
We were hoping that you would be free
To climb in your car
And come just as you are
For a casual party soiree.

Thirty-four

Our birthday girl(boy) is thirty-four
But anyway, who's keeping score?
It's a chance for a shindig
So come take a spin and pig
Out on gourmet food galore.

Thirty-six

Our birthday girl(boy) is thirty-six
So let's all get together and mix
Oh, the fat we will chew
With a good wine or brew
And the doldrums that we'll eighty-six!

Isaac, the Autodidact, tells us that for those who were born on the fifth, then the fifth birthday is a “golden” one, and again, those born on the twenty-first of the month, celebrate their golden on their twenty-first year. In fact, Molly was. Ignorant of this Wiki factoid, she missed it, and alas, in the business of birthdays, more surely than anything else, there are no “do-overs.”

Now reaching adulthood on the very day of the golden birthday should bode well for something, if we believed in such nonsense. However, here in the pub, we are not superstitious, except for avoiding ladders and the odd black cat. One must keep a grip, for science explains all, and from that slippery slope, we might find ourselves indulging in numerology, astrology, divination, or perhaps even alchemy, which was said to be the private vice of our hero, Isaac Newton. He regarded his celibacy as his greatest achievement, making one wonder if any ever offered him a birthday limerick.

Yet Another Birthday Limerick

Thirty-seven

Such an odd year, that strange thirty-seven
Is still good excuse for some leaven
Of fun for the taking
So join us in making
The neighbors believe we're stone-deaf then.

Another Birthday Limerick: Thirty-eight

Our birthday girl(guy/boy) is thirty-eight
That's cause enough to celebrate
So come to our house
And help the guy(girl) grouse
About "The Big 0" on her(his) plate.

And so on: Birthday Greetings and Happy Birthday to You

Thirty-nine

The day you become thirty-nine
Enjoy it! You're marking the time
When you'll wake up forty
Those round numbers hurt, we
Advise you to note the time-line.

Variation: Thirty-nine

Those birthdays which end in a nine
Are hard ones, so join us this time
To honor our hero
Next year's ends in zero
She'll(he'll) be under the covers, supine.

Speaking of numerology, we are reminded that “mathematics is the language of God” and that the Fibonacci series (1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 and so on) describes among other things, how leaves are arranged when looking at a plant from the top. Now this is this most convenient, for each leaf gets optimal sun. Furthermore, the ratio of two successive numbers (e.g., 5/3=1.666) repeated perhaps until one expires, eventually resolves to, guess what? “Pi.” Now Pi is of such enormous importance, that we are told that someone even chose for his doctoral thesis the attempt to carry it out to its last digit. We hope his parents no longer pay his tuition for he will not soon graduate.

The odd mathematical coincidence even intrigued St. Augustine of Hippo, who wrote “Numbers are the Universal language offered by the deity to humans as confirmation of the truth” and that truth, my friend, is that we are all getting older and require a birthday limerick with unfailing regularity. Incidentally, we notice you have spilled some salt, kindly fling some more over your shoulder, and could you straighten that horseshoe a bit?

Are the thirties all used up? Segue this way to the forties...

Please do not forget to attribute to Jeannette Ramirez as author unless otherwise noted. Webmasters, thank you for supporting this project by linking. For the poem count at Here Be Limerick Poems visit our home page.

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