Tanngerine sun was shining, in what many called the olden, golden days;
And Sandra Adams was a year older, like loveliness, jeweled art portrays.

Sandra lived with her parents, younger sister, Maggie, and brother, Bob;
In the dazzling, distant, Blue Mountains. There colorful wildflowers mob.

Sandra's tenth birthday was much anticipated, but it had not arrived yet;
Like songs that peak at coral sunup, as violet moon conveys cool regrets.

Friends had fun dangling yoyos on fingers, or flying kites, dazzling colors,
Or doing happy flips in minty fields; as all children love to frolick summers.

When black nights seemed full of forever fantasies, 'ere faceted sun arose,
Family came, midst summer fervor, as moonlidght powdered creamy rose.

Sandra lived in the house of amber history, always looking for tomorrow;
Like the undulating dance of old and new, or of pure joy, and true sorrow.

Siblings roller skated all sizzling summer, from sunrise to sangria sunset;
And the slight wind whispered sometimes, on crooked paths of no regret.

Nourishing rains yielded nectar, to ruby throated hummingbird's delight;
And newcomer neighbors came to visit, when stars emanated punch light.

Summer, and pretty 'red flint' plants, danced with dry wind, in ruddy flames;
Before flowers turned 'lavender blue' at sunset, of the starlit day's remains.

Giant lilies opened wild perfumeries, amid passiflora, glorious for one day;
Ahead of the 'silverdust' moonlight, when 'blue mink' graced the walkway.

Sandra's mother composed fine music, like a sunlit, hummingbird chorus;
And sought a special gift for Sandra, like lavender time, passing before us.

But, Sandra thought it was forgotten, like a rainbow, hidden away in magic,
Since no one had yet mentioned it, like butterscotch afternoon, still classic.

Sandra got a surprise on her birthday, returning from an errand for Mother.
Her party was waiting, all her friends were there, like fireworks, many colors!

But, her favorite gift was the one, which would always fill her with nostalgia,
And be sung by many generations; like evening clouds and sunsets, mocha.

'Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear Sandra!
Happy birthday to you.

She loved being able to sing along. Mother had composed a special song.
Like the special color green in spring, when for beauty, days are prolonged!

How old are you now?
How old are you now?
How old are you, dear Sandra?
How old are you now?'