so here we are at last at the ten-boy never to be the single-figure-aged-again boy and all the trailing clouds that cling to the not-big child can be blown away - you're up in your own sky now clear-blue on some days (if on others windy and wild)
now you'll have to see yourself as the tall-boy the take-it-on-the-chin and care-for-all boy and looking at what's to be done and getting down to doing it without boring parents laying down the law it's your walk from hereon to your own new town
then you'll be able to grow into that free-boy not hankering to be that sit-on-your-mother's-knee boy and you'll find yourself with keys to fit in every door you've been denied or dreamed of (keys towards the man) and a richer jack will sprout from the jack you were before
so aquarian and water-dog and feb-the-fourth-boy the i've-got-to-figure-out-my-south-from-north-boy now you've double-jumped may your life bloom well be kind to sweet matthew and let that deep sun shine that's been nuzzling inside you in its young-boy shell
and we wish a happy birthday to the ten-boy to the video-games and freaky-foresters'-den-boy to the boy who takes pity on his dad's bald head whose laziness is legion - seasoned with sharp wit a boy who's perfect when he's fast asleep in bed and awake not quite an angel but at least well-fed